Unlikely Company
by lec223
Summary: Background info: Sydney is under the alias of Julia Thorne and is working for the Covenant, relaying the Intel she acquires to Kendall from the CIA. Sark is also unwillingly working for the Covenant (and not in CIA custody) in the hope of getting his mone
1. Default Chapter

**Unlikely Company**

**Background info:** Sydney is under the alias of Julia Thorne and is working for the Covenant, relaying the Intel she acquires to Kendall from the CIA. Sark is also unwillingly working for the Covenant (and not in CIA custody) in the hope of getting his money back which funds the Covenants operations.

Sydney under the Alias of Julia Thorne is forced to seek Sark's help when she suddenly becomes the prime suspect of a recent CIA scandal...

**Chapter 1**

LA

Kendall had decided to call it a night and was on his way to his car on the third level of the garage. He lazily punched the button of the elevator and let it drop down to his level. He was a few feet away from his car when his mobile began to ring. The vibrations sent shudders through him, and he knew who was calling.

Hesitantly he reached in his pocket to reveal the phone and it was no surprise to see that the number was withheld. Dropping into the driver's seat he pressed the button to receive the call and brought it to his ear.

"Kendall," was all he said.

"It's me." Said the female caller.

"We need to talk." He replied in a reluctant monotone.

"Yeah I know; The Covenant, they're after a file. I don't know what's on it yet or why they need it, but-" Kendall cut her off.

"That file contained all the Rambaldi codes the CIA has ever obtained. Not only that but it had all the decryptions we spent months working on."

"Wait, what do you mean 'had', what's happened to it?" There was a long pause before she asked the question again.

"Sydney." He addressed her by her name this time, forcing her to listen carefully. "The Covenant was after that file for its purposes in their Rambaldi operations. We had that file on one of the CIA's private servers…until last night."

"What happened?" She prodded.

"Somehow a virus entered the system and wiped the file clean. Now from the intel we've put together we can assume it was the work of the Covenant."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would they destroy it when they needed it?"

"We believe that the file hasn't been destroyed, but removed from our database, and transferred to a Covenant server."

"Well can't you trace it?"

"We already did." Another lengthy pause.

"And…?"

"Sydney, we deduced all the suspects to you."

There was and uneasiness to her voice when she next spoke. "What do you mean me?"

"The guys in op tech have confirmed that our server was accessed from a secure location using specific access codes. Now those codes could only have come from someone who knows the protocols from within the CIA."

"So what, you've just decided to blame me!" She retorted, the anger in her voice clear now.

"Sydney, you're the only agent the Covenant has that has the knowledge such high clearance intel on the CIA. You're the only possible option as far as the CIA is concerned. They're after you, and you know it's only a matter of time before they find you. The best option you have is to turn yourself in"

"What so they can lock me up for something I haven't done. I did not create that virus."

"I don't see what other option you have Sydney."

"You could tell them; tell them I didn't do it."

"And you suppose they're just gonna take my word for it? My orders are that if you make contact with me I am to bring you in. If you turn yourself in we can conduct an official operation and confirm that you didn't do it, if that is the case."

"What do you mean 'if that is the case'?" There was another brief silence. "You think I did it don't you?"

He was hesitant to answer, then continued. "Sydney if you don't, they're gonna think you're hiding something."

"I didn't do it." She protested, and then realising there was winning to the conversation she gave a deep sigh. "But I'll find who did." And with that she was gone.

Kendall clammed his phone shut and threw it into the back of the car. He paused a moment before forcing his car out of the parking bay he was in and sped off through a crowd of stationery cars.

GREECE

There was a surprisingly cold chill, which snaked through the hidden back alleys of the Grecian town. Sark shifted awkwardly as he looked down at his watch. His contact was late. He figured they had either backed down from their deal, or had been killed already. Either way he was not going to wait any longer.

He slid off the hood of his car and began to walk round to the driver's door. He paused in his step as he heard screeching tyres approaching him from the other end of the alley. He rolled his eyes, and then turned to where he was stood to greet the stranger, who was rapidly approaching him.

The car came to an unsteady halt a bit too close for his comfort. Whoever was inside certainly had some back bone to be so bold before him. He gave a slight smirk of admiration for the stranger, even though they had never met. He had spoken to her over the phone, and she had convinced him that she had Intel worthy of his presence. So tonight he had shown, and apparently she had too.

He waited cautiously, waiting for the driver to emerge form their car. He grew a bit concerned when they didn't. Slowly grasping the gun, which he had lodged in his belt at his lower back, he stalked over to the car. Steadily placing his hand on the handle of the driver's door, he gave a sharp tug to reveal an empty seat. He scanned the car round with his gun, but came back up to stand straight when he was certain no one was in the car.

Uneasy with the whole situation he stepped back away from the car, ready to make a quick exit when he felt his throat tighten with the arm that had quite comfortably itself locked around his head. After a few failed attempts to free himself he bought the gun up to shoot at his capturer, but watched it fall to the ground as it was knocked out of his grip.

He concluded that they were female, and whoever they were he would be the first to admit they were good. A certain curiosity came over him as to who they actually were. The arm loosened its grip slightly, and he saw it as an opportunity. Ready to jab his head back, he found his footing, and braced himself for a throb of pain over his skull. Instead, he felt the sharp piercing of a needle at his neck, and soon after felt the cold, solid ground come to meet him.

When he woke he failed to recognise any of his surroundings. Eyes coolly scanning the dank warehouse, he heard clicking of heels approaching him from behind. Unable to turn round, he waited for them to present themselves in front of him.

"You…" Was all he could say in astonishment.

She gave a forced sarcastic smile as she pulled up a chair to sit directly in front of him. He however couldn't move for the handcuffs she had so kindly provided.

"You're alive." He continued.

"And kicking." She confirmed.

"I believe that." He said taking the time to observe her. "You set this whole thing up." He didn't need an answer, and she didn't make any efforts to give him one.

She wasn't the Sydney Bristow he once knew. Physically she hadn't differed much. He admired her attire for a moment. She wore all black; a casual pair of clean-cut trousers and a tight fitting jacket zipped three quarters up and she had left the high collar wide, very practical when he thought about it. Her hair was pulled back tight into a neat bun, and he could only just make out the highlights she had in the dim light. Even though her hair was full of life, her face revealed her true state. Looking back at him she was cold.

He saw that she had lost that innocent aura about her, but it wasn't just that; it was something in her eyes. When he looked closely at her he saw the once so strong patriotic glow had gone, and left her hollow. It unnerved him to see her so raw, so distant from everything. Normally his very presence would have sparked some anger or frustration, but there was nothing.

Uncomfortable, with his roaming eyes, Sydney clapped a hand round his head, clutching at his hair, and jolted his head back, which forced him to pay attention. "I want something from you." She told him, giving him a classic Bristow menacing look before releasing him to let his head loll forwards. "And you're going to give it to me." There was no doubt in her words, which meant that she would get what she wanted, and he knew it.

"Well perhaps if you tell me what it is, exactly, that you want." He watched her pace the warehouse slowly. "You know Sydney, I must admit that even I couldn't have faked my own death with such perfection."

"Don't act as if you didn't have anything to do with that." She warned him rolling her eyes.

"I'll be honest." He noted the small chuckle she gave. "I was aware that the Covenant planned to carry out such an operation, but not to this extent. I also wasn't aware that their efforts to brain wash you had failed. You're not Julia Thorne?"

"It just didn't have that ring to it." She answered, abruptly turning towards him. "But as far as they're concerned I am her." She continued taking her seat again. "…And I intend to keep it that way."

Her message was clear, and he knew what he would face if he betrayed her. One mistake he never made was to underestimate her abilities. "Understood." He said giving a curt nod.

She lifted her head drawing in a deep, slow breath, never taking her eyes off his. It was clear he wasn't lying. "The Covenant stole a file from the CIA. I assume you knew about this?"

"Sydney, I may fund the Covenant's operations but they don't exactly clear them through me before hand. I know just about as much as you do."

"I don't care what's on the file, and quite frankly I couldn't care less about the CIA getting it back but…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a brief moment.

"They think you did it." He said matter of fact. Her look was all the confirmation he needed. "What do you want from me?"

"I need you to tell me where that file is now." She returned her stern gaze to him again.

He shook his head slightly and pursed his lips. "As I said before, The Covenant doesn't keep me informed as much as I'd like." She began to stand, but dropped back down when he said, "It's in London." He said calmly.

"London" She repeated, cautiously eying his response.

"Yes. I believe the file your after is currently being stored on an isolated server at a hotel in south London."

"And you just give it up, just like that? Why?"

"The Covenant is in possession of a great deal of money that belongs to me, yet they provide nothing in return. Like you, I would much like to see them destroyed."

She took in his words, and then shrugged disappointedly. "It's too bad." He gave her a quizzical look. "I wanted to beat you up…or hit you, or something." She revealed the keys to the handcuffs from her pocket and released his wrists.

He clenched and unclenched his fists to stimulate his fingers. They both paused. She wondered if he might hit her. "Don't worry Sydney, I have no intention of trying to escape."

"Like I said…" She said standing tall over him. "…It's too bad. Come one." She added and he followed her out the warehouse exit. He tried to remember the last time he had been in London.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

LONDON

They had finally arrived in London. He had been curious as to how she intended on boarding a plane with him handcuffed, but just before they had arrived at the airport she had uncuffed him and let him enter a short while before her. She had allowed him to gather a few necessities from his hotel room in Greece so he carried a small black suitcase at his side. He had spotted her boarding the plane but made no attempts to exchange politeness. He had hardly recognised her as she had changed her appearance for the occasion, sporting a jet-black wig, which gave her a low fringe. To add to the look she had slipped on a pair of night blue sunglasses, which completely complemented her outfit.

Throughout the flight she had been monitoring him. Anyone else on board would have assumed she was simply going to the toilet, but he knew better, and when she had passed he had glanced up from his uninteresting magazine to flash her a crooked grin. She had left him with a parking lot number where he was to meet her when they arrived at Heathrow Airport, and he had done as asked. It seemed to shock her that he was so willing to cooperate, but still she had felt the need to secure him to the car before they had driven away.

Now, though, they were fast approaching their destination. She had returned to her Julia self and he had provided her with surprisingly accurate directions, which lead to the Ritz Hotel. They were about half an hour away from it now and had just pulled up to wait for traffic lights to blink to green. There had been very little conversation en route, but now she felt the need to confirm the plan.

"So you know what you're doing?" She asked.

He gave a single nod. "I check into the hotel…alone, and then confirm my room number to you. You'll meet me there, just in time for a glass of champagne." He studied her carefully, analysing whether he had managed to agitate her or not, but either she had perfected her acting skills over the past year or she had converted to a cold hearted thief.

"You got most of it." She said as she veered the car round into a lane, which he instructed her to take. They were about half a block away from the hotel when she pulled the car into a seemingly small space. She killed the engine and then uncuffed his wrist from the door handle. "Listen. If you so much as try to deviate from this plan, or if you in any way try to alert them I'm here I promise I will kill you…slowly."

He couldn't help a tiny smile flicker across his lips. "As much as I'm incredibly intimidated by your admirable threats, I'm not solely doing this because I appear to have no choice; I want The Covenant gone, and if that requires me to assist you in your operations then so be it." He turned to look at her. "I am not your enemy here Sydney, at least not where The Covenant are concerned."

That's when her guard finally crumbled, and she turned on him, piercing him with her stricken eyes. "We have never been allies! We are not allies now, and we never will be! You are my enemy, and the only reason you are alive now is because I haven't killed you yet!"

Satisfied with her reaction, he opened the door and stepped out onto the street. He swung the door shut and then leaned through the rolled down window to retrieve the earpiece she had ready to hand him. In all subtleness he popped it into his ear and adjusted it so it was in working mode, and with that he was gone. She didn't watch him go; instead she forced the engine to life and sped off down the road only to cut left to circle the hotel where she rolled into the hotels parking facility. Quickly, she ditched the car and hurried off to the elevator at the rear of the lot.

Sark, on the other hand had calmly strolled in through the large lobby entrance and made a b-line for the reception.

"Can I help you sir?" Asked the seemingly friendly woman behind the desk.

"Yes. I'm doing some business in the area and wondered if you had any vacancies for the weekend." He replied in an effortless polite manner.

"Will you be staying alone?" She asked as she keyed the details into her computer.

He gave a brief pause at the question and then gave a little chuckle. "I was rather hoping to be joined by my partner, but she seems to be some what tied up with her own work." Just then he heard Sydney over his earpiece, and smiled inwardly. He presumed she would be on the roof by now, ready for his word.

The lie was lost on the woman as she dismissively typed further details in. "Do you have any preference to which floor you're room is located on?"

"Well I don't know about you but I love a room with a view."

The woman nodded and then gave one final tap on the keyboard. "Room 512 on the sixth floor. If I can just take your details we can have you checked in."

"Mr. Sark", was all he said.

The receptionist looked up immediately with a knowing look. "I see." She fluttered about the papers on her desk and handed him an envelope. "I assume you're here for the charity event tomorrow night."

Although he was shocked at the recognition, he replied in a casual tone, taking the envelope. "That's right."

"All the details are inside. Would you like me to tell Mr. Jawlenski you've arrived?"

Then it was clear to him. "No. That wont be necessary thank you. I'll tell him myself." He took the key card from the desk and left for the elevator giving her a curt nod. He saw her move onto the next guest and figured she wasn't suspicious of his presence.

Once in the elevator he confirmed the room number to Sydney, who was already harnessed to the top of the building. She had memorised the blue prints of the hotel and dropped down over the east side of the building.

Sark stalked the many hallways for room number 512, planting bugs as he went did. He found the room with ease and let himself in, letting his case fall to the floor. He scanned the room, and concluded that is wasn't the best he'd seen, but then again it by far wasn't the worst. Then as if she had been waiting for him, he locked on Sydney behind the large French doors, which lead out onto the balcony.

He came up close to the glass and took a moment to admire her, before unclasping the lock and sliding it out of the way, removing any obstacle between them. He felt the harsh air as she brushed passed him into the room and slid her harness under the bed to keep it hidden. She made no attempt to talk to him so he took it upon himself to fill her in.

"It would appear an opportunity has arose. One which I think will aid us in our objectives." He saw her eyes flicker up at him, and darted about the room suspicious in every way, yet he understood; he wouldn't expect any less of her. He was about to continue when she held up a hand before clipping a small beady device underneath the mini bar counter. It was a bug scrambler; a wise move considering they were on Covenant territory. Then she turned her attention back to him.

"Meaning?" She quizzed, coming to stand straight folding her arms, ready for his reply.

"The charity event tomorrow night. I assume you heard over the earpiece?"

"I heard." She said dismissing his presence as she moved her small bag of necessities from the balcony to the large sofa in the centre of the room. "It's tomorrow night. We'll be done and out of here by then." She revealed a small laptop from her case and set about firing it up.

"As aware as I am that I'm under your authority here, but we may be able to use this to our advantage."

"Look." She said snapping up from the laptop screen. "There are a million reasons why we are doing this job tonight and not tomorrow, but I'll just tell you a few. Firstly it's just a matter of time before The Covenant discovers I'm here, secondly if the event is run by The Covenant it's almost guaranteed they'll ensure top security on that file and not to mention the fact that I don't want to be cooped up in this hotel room with you anymore than I have to." She paused, regaining her posture, and then narrowed her eyes. "So we will be doing this tonight. Understood?"

He didn't answer straight away, but folded his arms and leant back slightly digesting her words, giving the tiniest flicker of a smile. "I'll return the favour and inform you of a few simple facts. Tomorrow night is a charity event; only The Covenant is the charity. They arrange it every few months for people to unknowingly hand their money over in order to fund The Covenants smaller operations. I, myself never felt the need to attend as I am their largest benefactor, although I can't recall ever receiving any invitations."

She sighed deeply as she connected a small arial to the top of the laptop. "So you didn't get invited to the party. I would take it personally, I mean you're not exactly the first person I'd put on the list."

"That's hardly the reason for my suggestion. My point is that from eight am to midnight tomorrow night the hotel's entire CCTV system is put on a rather convincing loop to keep anyone from discovering their secret; a prime opportunity for us to get what we came for without anyone knowing it was us." He could see her brain ticking over as she analysed all the possibilities in her head.

"Surely they wouldn't override all the feeds or else anyone could gatecrash." She quizzed.

"They appoint guards to every entrance. Although it's highly unlikely that anyone would be able to get in as they pay the hotel to perform an all night lock-in. Anyone who attends must stay at the hotel for the night."

"There's always a catch." She sighed to herself. He observed her slight reluctance to what she was about to say and pursed his lips ready for her reply, not really bothered what it would be. "Okay." She said giving a stern nod. "We'll wait. Tonight we can monitor the hotel entrance; see who's planning on attending and tap into the hotels mainframe to see how tight security is around the room where the file is. We need to know what we're up against."

He straightened at her words and rolled his jaw before speaking. "I believe I can help with that." She eyed him steadily before dropping down in front of the laptop, giving him a look of approval. He walked over to stand behind her and watched as she tapped away at the keys.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter3**

It had been a long day, and right now all she wanted to do was kick back and relax. Her mind drifted off to the million places she would rather be, but she couldn't pretend not to be stuck in a room with a man whom she had sworn to kill more times than she could count. She slumped back on the sofa, letting her eyes stray from the laptop screen, which was on the small coffee table in front of her, but her eyes were forced back to it when she heard Sark's sharp voice.

"That's him." He said waving a finger slightly at the screen.

She willed herself to return to a rigid position and studied the man entering the hotel entrance, courtesy of Sark, who had helped her tap into the CCTV feed undetected. "That's Jawlenski?" She asked, flicking her gaze towards her watch. It was almost nine o'clock "It's a little late to be coming back, especially when he's meant to be guarding the file."

"I doubt he has to worry too much about that. Jawlenski is renowned for hiring the most capable of guards whilst on operations. The Covenant employs him not so much for him to deliver the goods safely, but as someone to blame if anything should go wrong."

"You mean torture?" She allowed herself to look across at him a short distance away from her on the sofa, and was surprisingly stunned at the flat smile he gave. "So what are his plans for the rest of the night?"

"I imagine he'll be headed to the private lounge for a bottle of his favourite wine before retiring to his penthouse suite for the night."

She took that in, tracking Jawlenski as he moved from the reception to pass through a large doorway, which she assumed was the private lounge. Sark was right. That had been happening way too often for her liking lately. "How do you know all this?" He shot her a quizzical look. "Jawlenski." She elaborated. "How is it that you know so much about him?"

"We've collaborated our sources on more than one occasion on operations for both The Covenant and personal matters. He's extravagant in his methods, but an excellent choice if you want the job done."

"So you two have a history?" she prodded.

"If you wish to refer to it as that, then yes." He saw her look turn into a serious stare as she let herself delve deep into his crystal eyes, which gave nothing away. She could only imagine what untold secrets he kept behind such a façade of innocence, which she swore never to be fooled by. Uncomfortable by her now evident stare, he shifted slightly. "What is it?"

She shook her trail of thought and brought herself to answer him. "I just want you to know that if you ever double-crossed me or made any attempt to, I would not hesitate to shoot you."

He looked almost saddened by her reply, if he was capable of such a feeling. "You feel the need to keep reminding me of that obvious fact, when I have made it perfectly clear that my intentions require me to keep my loyalty to you."

"Loyalty is such a loose term isn't it? These days it's so easy to mistake it for betrayal." She returned her absent gaze to the laptop screen, but she couldn't shake the awareness of his eyes as they ticked over her; observing her, as he tried to read her thoughts.

"If you didn't trust my worth to some extent you wouldn't be sitting in this room right now."

"Putting you and trust in the same sentence…" She trailed off, not wanting to display her frustration any further.

"We're not as dissimilar as you'd like to think, Sydney." He almost regretted letting those words escape from his lips when he saw her frozen eyes turn to pierce through his own like icicles.

"I am nothing like you." She spat.

"Be honest Sydney, do you still live in the illusion that you're working alongside the good guys?" He quizzed.

"You are a heartless, cold-blooded killer…and I will never be like you."

"Then I wonder what it takes for you to give yourself the label of a murderer. Or is it that you just can't admit it?" She paused, offering him a confused look. "Come on Sydney. Besides the many opponents you've killed during your time at SD-6, you ended a mans life as proof for The Covenant-" He was cut off by her ripping voice.

"I had no choice!" Tears of anger threatened around her eyelids, yet she suppressed the urge.

"Not to mention your late fiancé." He shot back, only half expecting the solid crack of her elbow at his jaw, which he got in return. The force of the blow knocked him off the sofa to fall roughly on his back.

She moved from the sofa to stand above him, and he thought it wise to remain where he was. "Yes, people have been killed because of my actions. It's part of the job I do, but you…you make it your job to kill people. What's more is that you like it! You're just a pathetic slave to whoever pays you." She allowed him up, and he met her gaze level. "I could beat the crap out of you endlessly right now, but that's the difference between us - I don't enjoy it. And that is the reason why I will never be like you." She turned to walk away yet his voice halted her in her step.

"So it's perfectly acceptable to kill if you're working on the good side?" No reply. "There are no hero's among men, Sydney. The people I have killed were all far from innocent."

"That doesn't give you a right to kill somebody." She spun on him.

"No." He agreed coolly. "Being the enemy is all the reason, but I believe you are already familiar with that concept with you being part of the CIA."

"Working with the CIA does not mean that I get to choose who gets to live and who dies."

"That's exactly what you do." He cut her off, and took a moment to absorb her apparent look of disbelief. "Right now you are choosing to let me live, when it is clear that the CIA would benefit greatly from my death."

For a short pause she couldn't find the words to give so much as a 'shut up'. She resigned herself from the debate she obviously wasn't going to win. Drawing in a deep breath. She took that final step closer to remove the space between them saying, "You're going help me get this file and clear my name with the CIA." She paused suddenly disgusted by him, all that he was. "In return, I'll give you just enough time to run before I pull the trigger to send a bullet through your brain."

He watched her with a strong sense of admiration as she slumped back down into the large sofa, yet made no attempt to lock her eyes on the screen. Instead, she unwillingly forced her eyes up to him. "Tell me everything you know about Jawlenski." He let a little smirk flicker across his lips as he came forward to comply with her request.

She twisted uncomfortably as she woke from a surprisingly restful slumber. Looking around from where she lay on the sofa, she realised that being in the room hadn't been just an unpleasant dream, and that Sark was probably still asleep in the bedroom. She had shut the door, not wanting to be reminded of his face when she first woke.

She was about to return to the softness of her pillow, when the abrupt rapping at the door stopped her. A spray of panic overcame her as she sprung from underneath the blanket, swiping a set of small keys from the coffee table as she made for the bedroom door.

Sark woke immediately as she flung the door open and jolted the keys around in his handcuffs, with which he had been linked to the bedpost all night. "Someone's at the door." Another tap at the door confirmed what she had just told him. He rolled his wrist, trying to suppress the tremendous ache, which had developed at some point during the night, but was pulled to his feet as he felt her hand grip his to lead him through the doorway.

He refreshed his eyes as he stood there for a moment in front of the door; while she stripped the blanket and pillow from the sofa and retrieved the gun she had hidden underneath one of the sofa cushions. She cocked the gun and composed herself as she put her back to the wall on the other side of the door, ready to shoot the visitor if necessary.

Sark turned the handle confidently and revealed the maid who stood before him. "Service today?" She asked, obviously unable to conjure up any other English words, as she appeared to be Spanish, yet he couldn't quite pinpoint her accent to a specific part of Spain.

He made as if to consider the offer, looking back into the room and then turned to her with a flirtatious smile. "I'll save you the chore today; I find cleaning myself to be much more therapeutic, as I'm sure you'll agree." She grunted slightly as she moved on to the next door a short distance down the hall.

Sydney slumped her shoulders in a gesture of relief, which dispersed as soon as she came to meet Sark's gaze as he clicked the door shut. In the frenzy to bring him to the door she hadn't taken any consideration of the fact that he had just woken up, and the fresh creases in the expensive shirt and trousers he wore were testament to that. Yet when she studied him closer, she saw a radiant glow hidden inside him, and he didn't seem to begrudge her rude bombardment upon him.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he went to take a bottle of water from the mini fridge below the counter of the mini bar. "I trust you slept well, apart from that unexpected interruption." He gave a slight pause to look over at her, observing the tight fitting black polo neck jumper, which she had put on last night when the bitter cold had crept in from London's streets, and the low cut black jeans she had teamed it with. All black, he thought, such a dark colour to dress such a pretty face in. Then again, it matched the daunting eyes she had set upon him.

"Like a log." She said in that familiar monotone he knew all too well, and crossed over to him to get a bottle herself. As he tipped the bottle up to his mouth she noticed the fresh speckles of bruising around his left wrist where he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt; obviously the result of cuffing him to the bedpost.

Dropping the bottle down from his mouth, he saw that she was focusing on something and followed her eye line to his wrist. "I must admit the handcuffs were a little…uncomfortable, not to mention unnecessary. Then again, I can only imagine the satisfaction it brings you to know I couldn't sleep because of you."

She was unsure of how to interpret his words, but didn't want to think too deeply of it. "What can I say, I like to leave my mark on a man…just so they wont forget me."

"I doubt that'll ever be the case, Sydney. No matter how hard I try, I always seem to be in some sort of dealings with you…willingly or unwillingly."

"Trust me, I'm working on that." She retorted.

"Well then I must say you're doing an excellent job by recruiting me for your latest attempt to do damage to The Covenant." He mocked.

"You know what they say..." she sighed, "…Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

"Yes, but…how close?" He taunted, making note of her reaction.

She pursed her lips, holding back the urge to batter him with verbal abuse, and replied calmly, "Close enough", as she passed around him to cut though to the bedroom. Her eyes lingered on the ruffled duvet where Sark had been in what seemed to be peaceful slumber before she had intruded. His expensive scent intoxicated her nostrils as she stepped into the room, and she expected to gag any minute, yet she didn't. Instead she found the smell unusually appealing. Shaking any further thoughts, she continued through into the bathroom by opening the door to the right of the bed. Separating herself from reality for a moment she pushed the door shut before raking her hair back to secure a loose bun, using the mirror above the sink.

He simply smiled inwardly, taking another swig of his water, before stepping out onto the balcony to look down onto the scurrying imbeciles as they hurried to arrive at work on time. His feet numbed slightly at the cold concrete, yet he didn't care much; he was too involved with looking out onto the horizon of London's tall buildings, and wondered what view hid behind them. In a sudden though he removed the mobile phone from his pocket and flipped it open to dial a number.

"Excellent", was all Sydney heard him say as she came into the room. She saw him leaning against the balcony wall, and studied him as he slid his phone back into his trousers.

His curiosity turned to Sydney as he heard her re-enter the living area. Aware that she couldn't join him on the balcony, he stepped back onto the soft carpet of the room, only to be greeted by an evil glare, which he never tired of.

"Who was on the phone?" She asked him directly.

"I need a fresh suit." He replied. "I doubt the state of the one I'm wearing now would go down well tonight. I wouldn't want word to get round that I've been chained to a bedpost all night."

"Give me your phone." She demanded, holding her hand out expectantly.

"Very well." He obeyed, slapping it into her palm, and then took it back after she had checked the number he had dialled. "I see you still remain suspicious of me."

She scowled at him as she set the laptop up on the table. "So if what you've told me is correct, the entire hotel's CCTV system will be on loop now."

"I also took the liberty of buying you a dress." She craned her neck to look up at him, rolling her eyes. "That is only my assumption, that you don't have one?"

"I have a dress, and I don't need you to buy me anything." She spat, keying in a code on the laptop. "Were good; it's been looped. We have until midnight to get the file."

"Of course. I should have known you'd pack for any occasion. The CIA has you well trained, or should I be crediting SD-6 for an obvious success?"

"I did that the day I helped bring that place down."

"Yes. That did play out rather stupendously." He told her dropping his hands into his pockets.

"What time does the lock-in take place?" She asked, ignoring his bait.

"I expect it will be done before the event begins at eight-thirty." He handed her the envelope, which the receptionist had given him.

She took it and read the information carefully. "All donations appreciated." She read. "They've got millions, yet they still ask for more." She chuckled in disbelief. "Okay." She said, slapping her palms on her lap, as she stood tall. "We'll head down at nine, posing as a couple, make with the small talk until the organiser comes around for donations when I'll make as if I left my purse in our room. You'll feel the need to accompany me because I'll have had too much to drink, and that's when we'll gain access to Jawlenski's server before returning to see the night through. Understood?"

"It's all perfectly clear. Although it begs the question of what we plan to do until then?" He raised an eyebrow in a suggestive way she despised.

"I'd be more than happy to hand cuff you to the bed again. Or we could try the bathroom for a change?"

"It's a grand offer to be sure, however, I can wait until tonight." He told her cocking his eyebrow slightly.

She let out a small grunt of objection. "Be ready for nine. Until then…stay out of my way."

"I don't suppose that means taking a stroll outside?"

"No. It doesn't." And with that she turned her attention back to the laptop, typing in a non-committal manner. He on the other hand took a moment to observe her before returning out onto the balcony. She followed him from the corner of her eye, yet dismissed his very existence with all her effort, returning to the laptop screen.

Sydney had just clapped her laptop closed when an abrupt knocking came from behind the room door. She looked over her shoulder to peer into the bedroom, where Sark protruded from, heading directly towards the door. He shot her an expectant look and she scurried through into where he had come from, where she listened to who it was.

Sark made no hesitation in opening the door to greet the businesswoman who stood before him. She held two large clothes hangers draped in expensive clothes carriers, with such grace.

"Mr. Sark?" He gave a curt nod. "Your delivery."

"Ah. Excellent." He said, stepping backward to pass through into the bedroom. "I'll just get my wallet. Come in why don't you."

The lady did as he had offered and glanced around the hotel room. "Such a lovely view isn't it Sir?" She shouted back to him.

He on the other hand was too occupied searching for his wallet amongst his personal belongings. Sydney, who was stood against the wall at the end of the bed offered no help in finding it, and instead rolled her eyes in impatience. Grabbing it from the inside pocket of his suit jacket hung neatly over the chair next to her he moved back through into the living space.

"Yes it is." He finally answered. "But I must admit it does get rather monotonous with no one to enjoy it with." He added, handing her a wad of notes to more than cover the cost.

In return she transferred the hangers to him. "It's unexpected that a gentleman such as yourself should be without company." And with that she turned to stand back at the doorway. "I assumed the dress would be for your partner."

"I hope to woo a certain lady with it as a surprise for a special occasion. I'm told she's hard to impress." He informed her.

"If you don't mind me saying so sir, it would be impossible not to impress anyone with that dress."

"Thank you." He said before letting her leave down the hall.

Sydney returned to the lounge after she heard him close to door shut, giving him a pathetic look. He took no notice to it however; as he was too curious to reveal the dress he had asked the shop assistant to pick out for him. Unzipping the carrier, he carefully removed the dress, letting it drape down to the floor. It was surprising to him to be speechless for a brief moment, but overcame the sensation, rolling his gaze up to her, who was also somewhat taken by the dress.

"Well I did ask her to choose something 'ravishing'." There was a slight fumble in his choice of words, but he made sure it wasn't obvious when he spoke to Sydney. As if he had suddenly remembered something, he briskly brushed passed her pressing the dress against her in a seemingly non-committal gesture, to go into the bedroom.

She attempted to give a small objection to taking the dress yet found her fingers grasp it. Feeling the sheer quality of the material made her wonder just how much he had spent on it, as it obviously wasn't your average cocktail dress. It was deep wine in colour, made from a slightly giving material and had extremely fine detail worked into it, which offered a mesmerizing glow. From the way it hung on its hanger she could see it was a low cut halter-neck design, with an a-line split hem, which rippled down to where she presumed would be her ankles. There was no denying it was a stunning garment, but everything it represented made her track Sark's footsteps into the bedroom, where he had just lay his sit down on the bed.

"I told you I already have a dress." She reminded him laying it gently over the chair next to her. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't make such gestures, which would indicate we are anything but enemies."

He glanced up at her last words, feeling the weight of her eyes. "Sydney…I am in no way attempting to buy your trust. I was simply acting upon my suspicions that you hadn't bought eveningwear with you."

"Well don't." She warned, her face stricken with frustration.

"Obviously I was mistaken." He replied, too busy to hear his own words as he was trying to read into her thoughts; work out what she was really thinking. She turned to head out the room but lingered in the doorway as his words crept up on her once more. "I'd give it to someone more grateful, but I honestly doubt it would have the same effect as I can imagine it would look on you." She didn't waste her time snapping back with some disgusted remark and instead continued out the doorway. Although slightly insulted by her apparent dismissal of him, he felt moderately satisfied and gave a twitch of a smile.

It was almost eight o 'clock and Sydney had begun to make an effort to prepare herself for the charity event due to start in half an hour. She had unrolled her dress and hung it against the bathroom door to let the slight creases drop out before having to wear it. She had been surprised at Sark, who had pretty much done as she had told him; to stay out of her way. It made her wonder what kind of a person he really was, when he wasn't being the arrogant nuisance he lead everyone to believe he was. She was cut off from her thoughts when she caught herself in the mirror. It still shocked her when she saw another woman looking back at her. There was only so much she could pretend to be. Inside she was still Sydney Bristow; the person she had always been and yet she was so different now. Studying herself more carefully she saw that her hair had been virtually stripped of any brunette, leaving a glowing blonde façade. Inside, however, she was not glowing. It had been so long since she had been allowed to be herself; so long she had a hard time remembering who she was anymore. For now though she knew she must be Julia Thorne. Her thoughts didn't move past that name as it rang in her head, leaving a tacky distaste upon her.

"Amazing isn't it?" Came a familiar voice from behind her. She had been too preoccupied looking at herself that she hadn't registered the dark figure appear behind her in the mirror. He must have noticed she was in deep thought as he patiently waited for her reply.

"What?" She asked, shaking herself from the overwhelming haze of thought, all too eager to turn her back to the mirror to face him.

"How pretending to be someone else will eventually lead you to question your own identity. Especially when everyone you once knew is under the impression you are dead. It makes you wonder what life would be like if you didn't have people like me to remind you of who you really are."

She gave some serious consideration to his words before answering. "Sark, if I didn't have people like you in my life I wouldn't be here right now and might actually be able to have a normal life."

"Is that really what you want Sydney; a normal life? Like you had before SD-6?"

"Yes." She replied adamantly. "But it seems like everyone around me thinks they know what's best for me." She added turning around to untie her hair in the mirror.

He was aware of the many secrets she had discovered to be kept by those close to her and the many, which she hadn't…yet. Looking at her know though, he saw the pain etched across her face and the resentment towards him, which he understood. "I truly believe that had it not been for SD-6 recruiting you into its organisation you would have ended up all the same in this line of work."

"That's all it is to you isn't it; work?" He digested her question not answering for a moment. "Well I don't get the luxury of being able to walk away so easily. Whether I like it or not this is my life, everything is personal."

He looked away for a brief moment, saying, "I can remember a time when it was only a job to me, but it slowly becomes you." Bringing his eyes to rest on her reflection again he continued. "Sydney, doing what we do, it is impossible not to get involved. So much so that we lose any clear distinction between our jobs and our lives." The bathroom was impressively large and he explored it pacing around slowly only to lower himself to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

She was shocked at how true his words were to her own life and couldn't imagine when or how he had developed such a clear perception on life. Then again she wondered a lot of how he had become the man he was today and was curious to know when it had gone wrong for him. Surely no one could love the job that much, not even Sark. "I don't have a life anymore. I'm dead remember and as long as The Covenant exists I know I don't have any chance of getting it back."

"Do you want it back?" He prodded.

Unsure of whether to honour him with an answer, she turned to him again. "I know I don't want this life anymore. Isn't that enough?"

Offering half a nod he replied, "Sometimes what we want isn't always what we need, Sydney. I'm curious as to whether or not you'd accept your life back the way it was, knowing what you know. Would you be able to walk back into the CIA to work alongside those who have already accepted your death? Including Mr. Vaughn and your father"

She hadn't really considered what she might do when she had destroyed The Covenant, but thinking it over now, she was just as curious as he was. "I don't know." She answered honestly. "Knowing my father he probably suspects I'm alive and as far as Vaughn is concerned, I think we've both moved on."

He was apparently shocked at her last words, but she knew better than to take Sark genuinely. "Yes. I did hear of his latest marital status. I must admit I was lightly shocked at how little time he wasted in doing so. Then again, death does put a strain on any relationship. I have first hand experience of that myself."

"I hardly see the comparison between your relationships and mine." She scowled.

"Although you made an enemy of Allison-" he was unable to finish as she cut him off closing yin on him.

"You want to know why she was my enemy? Um?" She spat, whipping her hand around his throat, allowing him to barely breathe. "Not only did she kill my best friend, but had herself changed to look like her so that she could use me and Will! Enemy doesn't even describe what she was to me!" She broke away, breaking her tight grip on him. "She was the face of someone I loved…" Tears threatened to fall; yet she was too proud to cry in front of him. "…And you have no idea what it was like to watch her die. To feel sad and relieved at the same time."

Allowing for a much-needed gasp of air he sat up straight and was taken aback at her obvious pain. "She was simply doing her job."

"So when she almost killed me she was doing her job?" Growing more frustrated at his lack of response, she leaned into him placing her hands firmly on the bathtub either side of him. "Every time she kissed Will, was she just doing her job then?" She stared deeply into his eyes, which gave nothing away and then jolted him backwards to crack his head against the cold bathroom tiles. "Well was it worth it, did you get what you wanted?"

"Sydney…" he began, trying to avoid her question.

"No come on! Tell me! Was ruining my life worth it? Did you get your paycheque?" She demanded allowing him to return to a sitting position.

"Do you really want me to answer that, Sydney?"

There was a long pause before either of them made an attempt to speak. She drew in a calm collective breath, straightening herself up to address him. "I need to get ready", was all she said. Taking his que to exit he slowly strolled over to the bathroom doorway. However, something made him pause and he looked back over his shoulder slightly as if to say something but dismissed the thought and left. Although a bit curious as to what he would have said, Sydney closed the door after him and returned to her tedious reflection and began to get ready.

Sark had been ready for quite some time now as he sat tangled in his thoughts on the sofa. He hadn't heard her emerge from the bathroom and was evidently shocked at her sudden appearance in front of him. All he seemed to be able to do was stare in astonishment as he drawled his eyes slowly from her legs up to her smoky eyes. He took all of her in for a moment, liking how the tight-fitting black dress she wore cut her figure perfectly. Even he couldn't have imagined a picture of her so fascinating. Her dress was simple, yet the wide v-neck front accentuated her collarbone and the Spanish inspired frilled hem parted at many parts when she walked to allow for a glimpse of skin.

She couldn't help but feel lifted at his reaction to her and had extreme difficulty holding a smile back. "It's almost nine." She informed him.

He thought about making a cocky remark about her attire, yet couldn't find the words to describe it. "Then I guess we had better head downstairs", was all he finally said, raising himself to meet her eyes level. It was then that he breathed her in, loving her scent and those eyes…he thought. He wanted so much to know what went on behind those eyes. Then again he couldn't imagine it would be as much fun to know as he loved guessing.

She quickly patted her hair to assure herself it was all in place. It had taken her quite some time to fix it up in the unruly twists held in pace by small sparkling clips, which added to her glow. "Let's go." She said taking a deep breath in before opening the door of the hotel and stepped out into the hallway. He was right behind her and clicked the door shut before stepping to her side to head to the elevator.

When the elevator arrived she was the first to step inside, leaving him to press the button to take them down to the ground floor. She had chosen to ignore the mirror, which had greeted her as the door had slid open and stood firmly with her back towards it. He on the other hand took the opportunity to discreetly flicker his eyes towards it to admire the back of her dress, which draped down to the small of her back. For once Sydney was grateful to be staying in a room on a floor so high as it took a while for the elevator to drop through the many floors.

"Remember I'm Julia…not Sydney." She reminded him quickly as the light steel doors swung back to reveal a large hall filled with people she could only imagine were under the illusion that this was anything but a high-class scandal.

"Shall we?" He asked holding his arm out to her and guided her out of the lift as she reluctantly took it putting a very convincing smile on her face.

They slowly made their way to the bar at the opposite end of the hall, taking time to case the place for guards and Covenant organisers.

"You see Jawlenski?" She asked him, disguising it as a brief cuddle into his neck.

"No." He replied appreciated her good sport in such a situation and returned the willingness by gentle resting his hand around her waist as he saw her to her stool at the bar. He was about to place himself on the stool next to her when he was hollered by a familiar voice.

"Julian?" Asked a surprised female voice.

Having clear suspicions as to whom it was he reluctantly turned around to greet the brunette who was now stood in front of him. "Harriet." He greeted her in the same over-enthusiastic manner.

"I didn't expect to see you here tonight." She said giving him a devilish smirk.

"Yes. I was in the area on some business with my partner." He turned to Sydney observing her curious look. "Julia this is Harriet Jones. We've worked together on various occasions conducting operations for The Covenant. Harriet specialises in security. She was behind the raid on the Government facility in Cuba last month."

"Nice to meet you." Sydney lied, politely shaking the brunettes hand. "I'm Julia Thorne."

"Yes. I've heard so much about you." She confessed breaking away from Sydney's hand in a new found disgust. "Tell me. How is it that you came to work with Julian?" She quizzed not making any effort to speed her reply.

Sydney contemplated her answer for just a moment, flicking her gaze to Sark and then returned to Harriet. It was obvious that she was aware of her past and her involvement with the CIA. "We share certain interests." Was all she said, fully aware of how annoying it would be to give such a vague answer to such an interested person.

"I see." Replied Harriet squaring the pair up. Sydney guessed she was probably trying to figure out whether they were more than just 'partners' as Sark had told her and for tonight at least they were. Harriet was about to speak when a well-dressed man called her over, obviously in a fascinating conversation with who Sydney assumed to be a highly regarded Covenant worker. Harriet slumped in apparent annoyance at the man and turned back to them flashing a forced smile. "Please excuse me."

"Of course." Sydney quickly shot at her.

"I'll catch up with you two later." She assured them, leaning slyly into Sark to seductively place a kiss on his left cheek. He didn't return the gesture and instead let her go not bothering to follow her with his eyes.

"Drink?" He asked Sydney, leaning forward on the bar to attract the waiter.

"Harriet Jones?" She mocked raising her eyebrows at him.

"Yes." Not satisfied that she believed him and picking up on the obvious hint that she was implying that he had been involved with Harriet. "We worked together."

"So you two never…?" She roamed trying to squeeze a confession out of him for the pure thrill that she knew she had the ability to do so.

"Hardly." He objected. About to say more he was interrupted by the waiter, now stood before him awaiting his order. "Petrusse '82 and…" He trailed off turning to Sydney for her to voice her preference in drink.

"Dry Martini with an olive…dirty." She half-purred at the waiter, making him move right into action. He gave Sark an impressed look before shuffling down to the end of the bar to get their drinks. "The way she was all over you I'd say you had a history with her."

"Although I'd love to banter endlessly with you, I'm afraid we have a bigger matter at hand. Despite the fact that Harriet and I never formed a relationship it would appear she may be a problem for us tonight."

Sydney saw his gaze tick over her shoulder and following his eye-line she saw non other than Harriet blatantly studying the two. Clenching her jaw, Sydney turned back to Sark who had sat himself on the stool next to hers. "Well I guess we'd better make sure she's not."

"And how do you propose we do that?" He prodded.

She didn't answer. Instead she edged in closer to him and for a moment he thought she might kiss him, but was proven otherwise when she tilted her head down to nuzzle into his neck, giving all the intended impressions to Harriet, who was now seething with envy. "Try to make this look convincing." She told him. Then she brought her head back up brushing a soft kiss on the same cheek Harriet had, laying a flirtatious hand on his chest, then lazily dropping it down to his thigh before standing up off her stool. "Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom." She said clearly enough for Harriet to decipher her lip movement.

Sark didn't need to make anything look convincing and found himself thoroughly enjoying her touch. He couldn't help the sharp tingles of electricity that shuddered his skin as her hand moved over him. "Go ahead." Was all he felt able to say as she turned to walk away.

She felt herself being tugged back and spun to see he had clutched her hand gentle pulling her closer. "I must say we look quite the loved-up couple." He said below a whisper in her ear.

Choosing to bite her tongue, Sydney simply cocked her head coyly adding to the facade and pressed her lips briefly against his before turning away for good. This time Sark did watch her go, unable to wipe the smirk from his face. He noted Harriet's reaction and saw that she wasted no time in following Sydney to the ladies' room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It wasn't long before Harriet had reached Sydney in the bathroom, discreetly passing around her to refresh herself in the mirror.

"Julia!" She said in apparent surprise. "Sorry to run off like that. You know how it is with the leaders…always wanting something right?"

Although Sydney couldn't honestly relate to any "dealings" with any Covenant leaders she offered a small nod. "Don't worry about it." She falsely assured the brunette.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here or Julian for that matter. I never thought him the type to attend such tedious venues." She talked to Sydney with an exaggerated sense of knowledge about Sark Sydney wondered for a brief moment whether Harriet had any interesting info on him, but dismissed the idea, concluding that she was simply a moron under the orders of The Covenant.

"Really?" She replied in the same surprised tone.

"Yes. Especially the two of you working together." She roamed. "I'd never have guessed you two to be such compatible partners." Harriet added to reinforce the obvious bait for Sydney.

"I find it helps to work with someone who knows you don't you think?" She asked in an innocent manner.

"I suppose." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Is that all you do…work with Julian?"

Sydney thought about how to word her answer before she spoke. "I'd say Julian and I have a very…unprofessional relationship."

"I see." Was all Harriet said.

"Well it's been lovely talking to you. I hope to do it again sometime." Sydney lied, making a clear b-line for the bathroom exit.

"Sure." She heard Harriet mumble a she stepped out into the crowded hall again. The music was a little too monotonous for her liking, but still she gave a polite smile to irrelevant suits that happened to look her way as she swayed over to seat herself next to Sark again.

Aware of some people still watching her she casually ran her hand across Sark's shoulders before seating herself to take a sip of her drink.

"I take it you had a nice chat then?" Sark couldn't disguise his curiosity.

"She thinks you're spoken for if that's what you mean." She sighed, casually scanning the hall. "Has Jawlenski showed his face yet?"

"Not as yet, but he will. If I remember rightly he likes to make a delayed entrance. For the time being though I must admit I'm quite enjoying our rather convincing façade."

"Do me a favour and get over yourself, Sark." She sighed deeply raising the crystal glass of Martini to her lips again, this time taking a fuller amount. When she was done she removed the cocktail stick, which pierced the olive and raked it off into her mouth, combined with an evil glare in his direction.

"As memory serves me…Julia, you once called me cute." He recalled raising one side of his mouth to give a half smirk.

"Um…" She agreed, rolling her neck to look at him. "…And I also called you a dog." She retorted.

Sark was about to reply when his gaze was drawn to a man entering the crowd at the far side of the hall. "He's here."

"Jawlenski?" Sydney asked discreetly looking over to Sark's eye line.

"Yes. Talking to the gentleman in the grey suit."

"I got him." She told him, finishing off her almost full drink, which half calmed her. "I guess all we do now is wait."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised at her ability to have such a high intake of alcohol at once, while she collared the waiter over for another drink. "Before you surfeit in alcohol may I suggest we get the job done first?"

"I'm fine." She quipped back, sliding the drink closer to her from the waiter only to stare blankly down into it lazily stirring it with the olive cocktail stick.

It had been roughly an hour and Sydney feared she might actually die from boredom. Either that or repulse from having to act like she didn't want to rip Sark's throat out. Nevertheless she had managed to keep her mouth closed when they had mingled among the crowd, making happy with the other morons filling the room. She was just about to head over to the bar for yet another drink when a sharp screech echoed around the hall and she saw a man announce himself over a microphone on a small built up stage at the rear of the room.

"Thank god!" She let out, realising too late what she had said and cringed slightly at the shocked faces now surrounding her. "I love the donating part!" She added in an attempt to mask her inner frustration. The confused audience offered some wary smiles before turning their attention to the stage.

"Exactly how many have you had?" Sark asked below a whisper in her ear. Any spectator would assume he was whispering sweet compliments in her ear and that's what amazed Sark the most; the fact that as far as anyone else in the room was concerned Sydney was his for the night., a concept he wouldn't have difficulty accepting.

"If you're implying that I'm drunk…" Her voice trailed off for a moment overwhelmed by the sudden nauseous feeling, which filled her as she spun on him. Without hesitation Sark extended his hand to grab her arm, steadying her. "…Then you're probably right." She admitted teetering slightly on her heels. "But that in no way means that I am incapable of doing what we came here to do tonight."

"Then I suppose we should head upstairs then." He suggested.

Flicking her arm out of his grip she turned steadily to see that the man upon the stage was making his way through the crowd accompanied by a few more Covenant suits carrying large buckets. "Dammit!" She shouted, this time aiming to attract the attention of the people surrounding her. Turning to Sark she said, "Honey, I forgot my purse. I left it upstairs in our room."

"No need to worry, Julia." Sark made as if to calm her reaching inside his jacket pocket to retrieve their room key card. "It wont take a minute for you to pop up and get it."

"Okay." She smiled snatching the card from his fingers began to hurry towards the elevator. However, Sark rushed to her side when she staged stumbling past the crowd, falling into a nearby businessman, who wasn't too disgruntled by the incident.

"Maybe I should go with you." Sark said for the benefit of the onlookers. He turned to address them, saying quietly, "She tends to get a bit carried away at such venues", and with a polite nod he saw Sydney to the elevator. Sydney only let go of her head when the doors had rolled shut and took the time to take a deep breath.

"I can't help but think that our little shared back then wasn't entirely acting on your part." Sark implied.

"Look, you are only here because I need help to get this file. You want to question my methods? That's fine, but leave it until after we get what we're here for."

"Would you even address my questions then?" He retorted casually, sneaking another glance at the back of her dress in the elevator mirror.

She wasn't entirely sure she would have answered him if the elevator doors hadn't swung open at that moment. Choosing to ignore him she cautiously stepped out of the elevator out into an empty hallway, which lead in only one direction, to the pentagon suite. Sark wasn't far behind her as they stalked a little way down to the sharp corner at the end of the hallway. She stopped for a brief moment resting her back against the wall. "You ready?" She whispered and then stepped out around the corner as a result of his curt nod.

The guard spotted her instantly and shifted into an armed stance. "Miss, you're not supposed to be up here."

"I'm not!" She gasped in shock, slapping one hand on the wall to steady her, which was half staged. "But my room is up here."

"This is the pentagon suite." He informed her in a serious patronising tone. "Only Mr. Jawlenski has access to this floor."

"Wow." Sydney slurred. She looked up and down the hall in a drunken manner. "Then I guess I'm really in the wrong place." He made no attempt to lower his gun, so Sydney threw her hands up in confusion. "I was just trying to find my room. You don't happen to know where it is do you?" She asked edging closer towards him, yet he didn't lower his gun. "I mean I have the key card, it says the room number right here…"

He cocked his head to observe the number on the card. "203 should be on the second floor." The guard told her dropping his gun down to his side to point at the elevator. "Just take the second elevator…" his voice trailed off.

Sydney slid the card open in her fingers, releasing a clear gas aimed directly at the guard. He slumped helplessly against the wall down to the floor. She looked back to see Sark emerge from around the corner.

"Excellent work." He complemented. Sydney shifted the man from the doorway and assessed the lock on the door. "How do you propose we get through the door without a key?"

She didn't answer. Instead she raised the hem of her dress slightly to fumble her fingers around the edge of it. Sark was about to raise concern before she snapped open a section of the lining of her dress to withdraw a small metal rod. There were a few more parts she had hidden, but was able to construct a digital lock unscrambler, which she slid into position above the door lock and waited patiently for it to carry out its work.

He was hardly surprised that she had come prepared, yet he couldn't help but be amazed at her methods. "That's a wonderful dress." Was all he said, yet she received the full impact of his imposing comment and she was repulsed as she saw his eyes stray from hers for just a second.

Unsure of how to react to his remark Sydney gave a brief sigh before giving the door handle a sharp twist as the device gave a quick high pitched charge. "We're in." She told him, unclipping the unscrambler and tossing it back to him. Pushing through the door after her he began deconstructing the device in the same way he had watched her assemble it.

"We better hurry. I'm a bit suspicious that Jawlenski only assigned one guard." Sark told her, pushing the door to a discreet close.

"Then we'll just have to not be a round to find out." Sydney replied pacing around the large pentagon suite, trying to find Jawlenski's server. "Any guesses as to where he keeps his…" Her voice trailed off as she spotted the large four-posted bed just past the kitchen area.

"So predictable." Sark muttered as he followed her through into the bedroom.

Sydney traced the underneath of the bed frame with her fingers feeling for any sort of concealed compartments. She paused when she came across a small metal latch and eased it open to reveal a nifty wooden drawer, which she slid out towards her. Inside was a laptop, which she fired up immediately. "It's encrypted." She informed him, unable to disguise the edge of panic in her voice.

Sark shifted over to her to take a closer look and began typing. "It's a standard Covenant firewall. It'll take two minutes to disable."

"Just hurry." She warned him, sitting back slightly as she watched him tap the keyboard frantically. It became a rhythm to her and she found herself lost for a moment unable to avert her eyes from his nimble fingers, which danced over the keys. She convinced herself it was purely the effects of the large amount of alcohol she had consumed downstairs.

"Done." He said, moving back to let her in to the laptop screen. As he did so he saw her shake out of some deep running thought and was curious as to what had captured her so fully.

"Good." Sydney assured herself, chasing away the haze in her head. She reached around to the back of her dress, sliding a small disc in a plastic wallet from the wide stretch of cloth, which draped across the small of her back. Popping it in the laptop she set about copying the data. "We're almost done." The CIA file transferred successfully onto the disc and Sydney returned the laptop exactly as they had found it.

"Surely it can't be that simple." Sark rose for concern as they made an exit from the room.

"We'll just have to find out." She replied, suddenly aware that the guard was quickly coming around to consciousness. "Now get gone." Sark did as commanded, slapping the unscrambler into her palm before he slipped around the corner of the corridor, out of sight. Satisfied that he wasn't spotted, Sydney popped the metal pieces back into her dress and then crouched down to the guard and fanned him in a feeble attempt to revive him.

The man sprung to his feet immediately, bringing his gun up to his defence. "Back up!" he shouted.

"Hey! Relax! I was just trying to help!" Sydney yelped straining her hand up in the air. The guard looked very confused, not letting the gun drop. "You fainted." Sydney elaborated.

"I what?" The guard asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. You…fainted. I was just trying to find my room and you go ahead a faint." She rambled in a drunken state. "I mean talk about bad luck!" She saw him examine the door, which apparently was how he had last checked it. "Look, do you need some water or…"

"I'm fine!" He spun on her, gun aimed to perfection. "Now go before I report your whereabouts! You're not supposed to be up here."

"Okay, okay!" Sydney gave in, retreating down the hallway, which lead to the elevator. Once she was clear round the corner she picked up her pace, running towards the elevator doors. Sark was waiting for her, ready to dash inside when it came to the pentagon floor.

"Did he buy it?" He asked.

"I think so." Sydney slurred as she came to a halt beside him. She regretted having so much to drink earlier and willed her spinning head to go away from her short sprint.

"You think…?" Sark began but he paused as he heard deep laughter rising in the elevator shaft. He shot Sydney a puzzled look, yet the one he got back from her wasn't much help.

Her mind raced wildly, considering all the options and with no weapons she was out of any logical ideas. Still the voices approached them faster and a subtle ring sounded from above the elevator. "Oh God." She muttered inwardly.

"Sydney?" Sark prompted her for a plan, now somewhat panicked.

The reply she gave wasn't remotely what he had been expecting; yet he would be the last to complain. Just seconds before the aluminium doors had flung open Sydney had launched herself against him, sending him hard against the wall, ruffling his hair about as she did so. Although extremely confused about her frenzy, he didn't question, even when she scrunched his shirt collar up in a deliberate action. Then just as the three men had stepped out from the elevator she had pressed her lips hard against his presenting the gentlemen with a much believable display of a lustful couple.

Sark wasted not time in receiving the kiss by cupping his hands firmly around the small of her back, encouraging her closer, yet it was clear she was in complete control. Secretly objecting to his suggestive hands, Sydney reached back to lay her own on his. To untrained eye it would look like a normal loving gesture, but Sark knew it was her way of making sure his hands did not wander. With her other hand she raked roughly through his hair, pushing his head back hard. He found it all rather delightful in a painful way, feeling her warm up against him.

The front man of the three cleared his throat as a signal for them to address him, feeling insulted by their lack of response to his entrance. Pulling away, Sydney twisted in Sark's grip to lean her back against his chest, which heaved revelling from the kiss. "Sorry." She chuckled giddily as a show of embarrassment in front of the men who were now studying her. It was clearly Jawlenski and his minions.

"May I ask exactly what you two might be doing up here." Jawlenski asked.

"We got lost." Sydney breathed. "And we were just trying to find a room." She slowly lifted one arm to drape across the back of Sark's neck as a frisky gesture, only in truth she nipped at the nape of his neck; her own way of urging him to talk.

"I see." Exclaimed the businessman. "You know this area is strictly off limits?"

"Yes. We were just on our way down. Julia here appears to have had a little too much to drink…." He ran a finger down the inside of her raised arm. "…not that I'm complaining."

Sydney smiled slightly, discreetly dropping her arm back down. Her smile widened as she stepped her foot backward to dig her heel hard onto his toes. He was unable to react in his desired way, so instead he countered it with a small nibble on her neck, which apparently made her release her heel.

"Mr. Sark." Jawlenski addressed him. "I wasn't aware you'd be attending tonight."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Sark chimed at all three of them; making it known he wasn't to be intimidated by them in any way.

"And you Julia…" He continued, pausing for a moment to take her all in. "…I've been hearing some very interesting stories about you." Jawlenski came forward to take both her hands, pulling her towards him and out of Sark's grasp. Sark's frustration was palpable and Jawlenski delighted in his attitude. Whenever they had worked together there had always been a strong underlying presence of competition on Jawlenski's part and Sark could see that was still the case.

"All good I hope." Sydney prodded, letting herself draw closer to him. She got the impression that Jawlenski wasn't the most professional of people within The Covenant and reassessed her judgements of Sark for a moment.

"Could a woman like you ever do anything bad?" He replied in a seductive manner.

All of Sydney's suspicions were confirmed and she tilted her head considering the question. "Do you really want be to answer that?"

Jawlanski only laughed. "She's a wild one Julian." He said shifting his gaze past Syd to Sark. "Sure you can handle her?"

"In all respect…she's not the type to be handled." He quipped coolly shuffling forward slightly, neatening his appearance.

"I like that in a woman." Jawlenski told her. Sydney simply offered a sweet smile. "You know I would love to work with you sometime. Maybe next time you're around you could drop me a line. I think it'd be a good experience for us both."

"Absolutely." Sydney assured the man, working her hands out of his. "Next time I'm around." She added as she moved passed him to head into the elevator.

Sark stepped in on cue offering a firm arm around her waist. Normally she would have rejected it, but she found herself leaning into it for stability. Jawlenski watched them both as they retreated into the mirrored elevator cabin. He smirked at the quick wink Sydney gave as she pushed a button next to the door.

Relief filled them both as the doors swung to a close and Sydney backed away from Sark taking a deep breath. Sark made an attempt to talk, but her raised hand silenced him.

"Don't." She warned him. "Just don't."

They had made it back down to the ground floor, having made a quick stop at their room to get Sydney's purse for authenticity purposes. They had done it; got the file, yet Sydney felt far from relieved. She knew that she was only halfway to clearing her name in the CIA and the hardest part was yet to come. For now though, all they could do was wait. There was no leaving the hotel tonight so she decided she would start fresh tomorrow morning and made a b-line for the bar in search of some more alcohol, mostly to remove the taste of Sark from her mouth. She glanced over at him and saw that he was in a deep trail of thought so Sydney left him to his own thoughts. As long as he wasn't talking she was happy for now.

Sark saw her to the bar, yet he was lacking in the way of cocky remarks. His head was too busy replaying their kiss before and he found himself completely oblivious to the droning sounds of the people around him.

It was late or early rather. Sydney didn't even bother to check the time; for fear that she wouldn't be able to reach any readable conclusion from the symbols on the watch on her wrist. She shuffled into their hotel room, followed by Sark and threw her purse down on the mini bar.

"My God. That was the most boring night of my life." She sighed slipping her shoes off one after the other.

"I found it rather…eventful." Sark replied.

"Oh please!" She scoffed. "You call that eventful? You need to get out more."

"I wasn't talking about the Charity event, Sydney." He elaborated, walking over to place himself on a stool behind the mini bar surface. Sydney made a quick departure, moving swiftly through into the bedroom to access the bathroom. "I was talking about that kiss you and I shared!" He shouted back to her.

Sydney heard him very clearly, yet chose to ignore him and instead leant on the edge of the bathtub to release hot water from the taps. She dipped the tips of her fingers in the water to check it was hot and poured an excessive amount of bubble bath into it. "Hot is good." She chimed. "So good." Feeling a little nauseous from bending over she stood tall and stepped back into where Sark was pouring himself a glass of red wine.

"Want one?" He asked, showing her the bottle. Even though she couldn't make out the letters of the label she shook her head, opting not to fuel herself with any more drink. "We need to talk, Sydney."

"We really don't." She said. Avoiding him completely she slid open the large French doors connected to the balcony and stepped out into the cool breeze of the night…or morning, she wasn't entirely sure.

He traced her steps and met her out on the cold concrete slab attached to the building. She stared blankly out onto the thriving street below, half attempting to fix her gaze on a solid subject.

"We kissed Sydney." Sark said matter of fact.

"You don't say." She sighed, wanting so much to not be having such a conversation, least of all people with Sark.

"Sydney." He called her, drawing her full attention to him and in that moment he was completely taken aback by her, by everything about her. The way she stood before him bare foot. Cold. Yet there were no signs of shivers along her skin. The loose strands of hair reached for him in the light breeze and he imagined her doing the same, yet he knew any chance of that would only be her drunken stumble.

"Listen to me, Sark. We kissed, but I want it to be clear to you that I was only acting upon last resort instincts. I would never-!" She broke off, composing herself.

His gaze never left the streetlights down below. "I appreciate your honesty, however I must make it known that my feelings aren't as mutual." He bought his eyes up to hers for what he was about to say. "Sydney I…" There was a slight awkward pause of hesitation before he finished. "I wanted you to know that I would hate for a meaningless kiss to be the reason for us not to work together."

"You're right." She nodded. He hadn't fully expected for her ranting of disgust for him to end just yet and took her reaction at face value. "It was meaningless." Sydney added, taking a stride back into the room. There it was; the final words that were engineered to rip through him like ice. Sark remained in the night trying to make clear distinctions on exactly what he felt. The only conclusion he came to was that when it came to Sydney, nothing was clear.

Desperate for the night to officially be over, Sydney stopped the water flow from the tap and sat there for a few long seconds. It was then that she realised her sheer exhaustion. Feeling an opportunity to stand up she raised herself unsteadily and returned to see that Sark was still on the balcony.

"Sark." She went out to him.

He could hear the sound of metal clinking in her hand as she came to stand behind him. "That time again is it?" He mocked, taking another sip of his wine.

"I'm feeling rather…drunk." She frowned at her own admittance to him. "So I'll let you choose where you wanna be; balcony or bedroom? The bathrooms out because I find it easier to relax when you're not in close proximity and well…I'll be getting a bath!" She rambled, leaning against the doorway. He only looked at her, mind still whirring in thought. "Balcony it is then!" She came forward to grasp his wrist, but he caught hers first.

"Sydney. I'm not going anywhere." He assured her.

There was some edge in his voice that made her curious as to what he had been thinking about. She stood straight, meeting his gaze full on. "We've had this conversation."

"That was before. I have nothing to gain from escaping. More to the point I don't want to, Sydney." Sark confessed bending her wrist up between them and plucked the handcuffs from her fingers.

She wasn't sure why she gave them up so easily or why she had let him have hold of her for that long. Scared of what all the evidence lead to she squirmed her wrist out of his touch and marched in to the bathroom.

"Enjoy your bath." He called back to her, simply to take the last words, which he very rarely got around her.

"A bath. That's all I need." Sydney chimed to herself, reaching for a towel, which she lay beside the bath. Taking a deep breath she began unfolding her hair in front of the mirror. Removing her dress she placed the disc within her clear sight next to the sink basin.

She would have undressed further had it not been for Sark's abrupt intrusion. "What the-?" Sydney yelped grabbing the towel to cover herself. "That's it" Where are the handcuffs!"

"They know." He blurted out.

"Who? Know what?" She quizzed, feeling the weight of her own brain in her skull.

"The Covenant. There's at least a dozen police cars parked outside the entrance. It can only mean they know, Sydney."

"Damn it!" She paced for a few seconds, unable to think of a logical plan. "How can they know?"

"The guard must have tipped off Jawlenski. What do you propose we do?" He waited expectantly.

"They can't know about the disc. We have to get out of here." She began gathering her things together, clutching her towel frantically.

"How? There's no way out other than the main entrance, which if I forgot to mention is surrounded. They're probably on their way up here as we speak."

"Get your things. We're leaving." She ordered him, impressed by herself when she saw he obeyed without further question. It wasn't long before they had the necessities collected, including the disc. They both halted in their strides when they heard a bold knock at the door. Sydney swore under her breath as she signalled Sark to follow her into the bathroom.

They dumped their bags in a cupboard underneath the sink and Sydney closed the door quietly. Sark stood there awaiting her next clever idea. He wouldn't have opted for enclosing themselves in the bathroom only to be found by the police, but here he was and he just hoped she had a game plane to such madness.

Aware that the police had entered the room Sydney quickly fixed her hair into a brunette wig, courtesy of the bag she had in the cupboard. "Get in!" She gestured towards the bath.

"Excuse m-." Sark began, but he was unable to finish as a result of her knocking him backward to land in it. Sydney then stepped in herself, lowering each strap of her bra, which she then concealed beneath the bubbles.

Sark emerged sat upright, wiping the water away from his eyes. He didn't even have time to take a large breath before the door swung open and Sydney slid his entire body down with the weight of her heel upon his shoulder.

He lay there still, listening to the muffled sounds of voices. Sydney's was unmistakable, yet he was unable to make out exactly what she was shouting. Her foot remained above his shoulder and her instep was flush against the side of his face. The feel of her skin was extraordinary as her other leg slid into place beside him. He was completely smothered in her and if he had been able to breathe it wouldn't have made much difference. It was only moments before he was about to raise alarm for the need of air when he felt her push against him, raising herself out of the water and for a moment the water seemed cold to him. Then he felt himself being tugged upward by a hand, which he was only relieved to discover it belonged to Sydney.

Sydney saw the door burst inward and prepared herself. "What is the meaning of this!" She demanded, slapping an arm across her chest as if she were completely naked.

A swat team of three invaded the room, taking it in turn to raise their eyebrows in shock. "Pardon the intrusion, Miss." The leading officer spoke. "We're under the impression that a Julia Thorne and a Julian Sark are staying in this room."

"Well that is obviously not the case officer! I am Shelly Walters and a very good customer to this hotel. I'll have you know that I will be filing a formal complaint against this first thing tomorrow! How dare you invade upon me like this! I am outraged!"

The men backed up easily. "I apologise. There's obviously been a mix up in the relaying of information. I'll see to it that you're fully compensated. I'll return after we've carried out our assignment. Don't leave your room, Miss." And with that the men left the room in search for, who they didn't know they had already found.

Sydney hopped out of the bath, planting her sodden feet on the soft floor of the bathroom and grabbed the towel to provide herself with some level of decency. Then she plunged her hand through the bubbles above the water to grasp Sark's shirt collar, bringing him to the surface.

"We've got to go. Now!" She told him, spinning around to the cupboard behind her, yanking their bags out onto the floor.

"How? I have no doubt that the entire entrance is full of swat teams." He said, examining his saturated clothes, which clung to him all over.

"That's why we're not going out that way." Sydney replied, quickly slipping into a black combination of flared bottom jogging trousers and a casual zipped jacket. She had no time to fix her hair, but managed to whip her wig off to let loose her half wet hair. It was hard for her not to fixate her eyes on Sark as he stood before her, soaking wet. "Get something dry on, quickly." Was all she said as she hauled her bag over her shoulder to shove passed him out into the bedroom. She heard Sark rustle about as he undressed, yet she did not turn her head. Instead she dropped to her knees to peek underneath the bed and reached for the harness she had used to lower herself from the rooftop onto the balcony.

Without haste she moved quickly through the hotel room to get to the balcony, where she dropped her bag and began fixing the wire around the railings of the balcony. Sark came to join her, his own bag in his hand and a puzzled look on his face. "So this would be plan B then?"

Sydney drawled her head up to look at him and saw that he had changed into a black jumper and a pair of casual dark jeans. Like her he had thought practically and chosen convenient attire. "You got a better plan?"

He had no answer. Grateful that he had chosen not to throw any sarcastic remarks her way she clipped the end of the wire onto the front of the harness, checking it was secure and slid her shoulder through one of the leg spaces. Picking up her bag with her other arm she turned to him expectantly.

"You really don't expect me to-" He began, but was hushed by her abrupt frustration.

"Listen! Those men will be back as soon as they realise that they came knocking on the right door and believe me it's only a matter of time until they do! I got what I came for and I'm quite happy to let you stay here to find your own way out." Sydney continued to attach a metal canister to both the harness and the end of the wire to enable her to control the speed at which they fell.

Hesitantly Sark slung his bag in his arm and stepped forward to slide his other arm through the free leg space in the harness. He caught a glimpse of the street below and fully appreciated the height they were about to dismiss and launch themselves willingly over the railing.

Sydney gave a few last tugs of the cable and then paused looking straight at him. He was close, but she knew that if she didn't want her arm broken they would both need to hold on to each other. However, she prolonged that fact as long as she could and raised herself up on the ledge of the balcony and dangled her legs over. Sark didn't waste any time in doing the same.

She turned to him abruptly. He saw a glimpse of discomfort in here eyes and he knew it wasn't because of the harness around her arm. "You ready?" She breathed, calming herself for the absurd fall they were about to perform.

"It would be rather useless if I said no wouldn't it?" He replied, giving her a flicker of a smile.

"Okay. Here we go." She warned him, securing the bag she held in her hand and wrapped her other arm around the cable to clutch the canister, making sure she was able to function the small lever. Then with extreme disbelief of what she was about to do, she edged closer to Sark beside her and linked her other arm around his back, which he returned by wrapping his firmly around her waist.

Sark looked directly at Sydney, now aware that this was not a prank of any sort. Sydney, on the other hand, was too distracted looking down at the shadow of the street below, trying to judge their exact height. She brought her eyes across to his for a brief moment and realised that he was staring at her, holding her and in that instant she kicked her heels back sharply against the balcony, sending them to slice through the bitter night air.

They came to a quick grounding and a smooth one too, courtesy of Sydney. As soon as the pavement met her feet, she sprang out of Sark's grip, unclasping the canister along with the harness. She knew there was no time to collect the wire, which dangled freely above them, but taking both the harness and canister she began to sprint away from the hotel.

"What now?" Sark shouted as he followed step.

"The car." She replied, not bothering to slow down. They careened around the back of the hotel and entered the large parking garage. Sark took Sydney's lead aware that she had been the one to park the car and zigzagged through cars as she did. "Here." She told him, fumbling the keys out of her bag to deactivate the alarm system. The silver car gave a brief shower of beeps, before both of them reached the doors.

Sydney had automatically gone to the driver's door, but paused in front of it. Noticing her hesitation, Sark did the same, looking expectantly across at her over the hood of the car. "Sydney." He prompted after a beat, eager to know why the frantic run had suddenly halted.

She threw the keys over to him, which he caught perfectly, although thoroughly confused as to why e now had them. "You drive." Was all she told him as she passed round the front of the car to switch doors. He did the same, seeing no time for question.

In unison they popped both doors open and dropped down into the car and offloaded their bags onto the seats behind them. Sark slotted the key into the ignition and revved the car to life before skidding it out from the lot Sydney had parked in and out of the garage.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Once they were clear of the city lights Sydney allowed herself to relax, slumping her shoulders more easily into the passenger seat. Now aware of the wet end ringlets of hair she flicked the air system on in the car and altered it to hot as she wafted the ends of her hair in front of the mini heaters in the car. Having made a pathetic attempt at drying them she resigned to slouch in her seat again, staring blankly out the window. She made no attempt to speak, even as small flecks of rain water gathered on the windscreen of her car.

"That was remarkably close." Sark finally broke the silence.

Sydney winced for a brief moment as if she had been under the illusion that someone else was driving, but his sharp voice etched through her like an icicle. Still she said nothing.

"Any ideas as to where I'm driving to?"

Forcing herself to answer she said, "We need to get out of the country…fast." She sighed deeply, aware of what he was about to say.

"That may be a little more difficult than we had anticipated. Surely they'll be looking out for us, surveying the airports." He said without averting his eyes from the road.

"I know." She sighed. "That's why we're not going to the airport…we're going to the dock side." She finished. He gave no reply, unsure whether to explain the dangers of that plan or to just simply disapprove. "It's on the east side of London, which takes about an hour from here. There's a narrow turning down a beaten track. Turn down there when we get there so we can sort things out." And with that she brought her knees up to her chest, resting them against the passenger door before drifting quickly into a seemingly peaceful doze. It was mainly because she was exhausted, but there was some underlying need to block Sark out for even the shortest while.

Sark wasn't sure what to be more shocked at; the record time in which she had drifted off or the fact that she had let her guard down enough to fall asleep next to him. In a whirl of contemplations in his head he also wondered whether he should be insulted or complemented by such a gesture. He only wished he could do the same, as he felt his heavy eyelids threatening to relax to a close. Still, he kept driving. It wouldn't do to stop until they had reached their destination, especially with, what he could only imagine to be, such a big hunt after them.

The office was a loud muffle of keyboards tapping and hurried voices as Kendall strolled onto the work floor of the Black Ops division. He was instantly met with a fresh looking female agent who had just returned an interlinked phone to its cradle.

"Mr. Kendall sir?" She caught up to him, stepping easily into stride as he made his way to his office through a corridor.

"Please tell me that you have some good news on the whereabouts of our asset in Madrid." He replied, wanting ever so much to shake the headache, which threatened to take full effect.

"Actually, Sir, I have some information regarding Agent Bristow…" She waited for him to take it in before continuing. "She's believed to have been sighted in London just a few hours ago. We've sent and FBI team searching for them, but as of yet they've had no luck." Satisfied with his full attention, she handed him a file containing a handful of photographs.

Kendall took a moment to study the photographs. There wasn't much of interest on them, only various CCTV motion shots of Sydney, in very good disguise passing through a terminal at the Airport and her later going to the ladies' room at her destination Airport, only to step out looking like Julia Thorne again. "Was she travelling alone?"

"As far as we are aware, Sir, there was no one with her." Was all the female agent replied.

"Okay, I want every available agent in that area looking for Bristow. We don't know what she's up to. I want to know where she's staying, why she's there, who she's meeting…Just find something on what the hell she thinks she's doing." It was a clear dismissal, which the minor agent took heed of and made a swift exit.

Kendall continued in his stride to reach his office. Closing the door firmly behind him he crossed over to the large leather chair behind his desk and sat in deep thought.

It had taken him longer than he had anticipated reaching where Sydney had told him to go, but nevertheless Sark gentle rolled the car left down onto the beaten track, which had been exactly where she had said. He admired her awareness of her surroundings, which had allowed them to get this far.

The car rolled to a dead stop concealed from the main road by hedgerows. He paused a moment, simply looking at her. Her eyes flickered beneath her eyelids, and he wondered what monstrous dream she was having to conjure such a restless slumber. He didn't know why he found her so fascinating, or what in particular he was drawn to, but he knew that there was something there; in his mind, when he found himself lingering a little more than he could help. Quietly extending his arm he reached out to nudge her shoulder.

He was certain that she didn't hear his ever so slight movement, yet her arm whipped up from her side in instinctive reflex to freeze his hand mid-air. Her eyes were wild for a brief moment before she recognised him and remembered where she was.

"Bad dream?" He quizzed, curious to know exactly what she had been dreaming about. Then again, with her current situation, it wasn't really hard to guess the basic jest of it.

Gingerly, Sydney straightened to an awake state, quickly scanning her surroundings. Confident that he had brought them to the right place she sat straighter, ready to move. "What time is it?" She asked, looking over to Sark, who had a look in his eyes, which she hadn't seen before. It was completely unreadable, and she wondered what thoughts whirled in his head to cause him to look so deep in thought.

Eager to distract himself, Sark read his watch aloud. "It's almost three a.m."

"Good. We can get on board one of the cargo ships, there's a pretty heavy traffic flow of them at this time of year so we should be able to get one soon." She wasted not time in stepping out of the car, stretching as she did so.

Joining her out in the damp morning air, which hung heavy on them, he gave a brief shudder, feeling the chill. "You seem to know an awful lot about boats." He called across to her, stepping around to the back passenger door to remove their bags. "Any chance you know where we will be ending up?"

"France." Sydney replied, matter of fact, taking her bag from him to sling it over one shoulder. She made sure that it contained the disc they had come all this way to obtain.

Sark was unable to hide his surprise. "Very well", he said, raising his bag to his shoulder in the same manner. "So we'll be walking from here then?"

"Unless you wanna try driving down the dock in an expensive car in early hours of the morning without getting caught!" She snapped back over her shoulder as she began to climb over the hedge row leading into an empty field.

Sark held back a chuckle and instead remained still until she turned around to address him. Seeing her quizzical look he flicked his gaze between her and the car. "You're right." He began. "It is an expensive car…seems such a shame." He shrugged, flashing her a tiny smirk and joined her on the other side of the hedge.

She followed him with her eyes in an attempt to read him. _Did he just crack a joke? _She wondered in amazement to herself as they set off through the deep grass to the far side of the field. "My God, you're just like every other guy…you'll do anything if the money's right."

He paused in his step, contemplating her accusation and then said, "I'm not doing this for money."

She spun back to him now, ready to defend her statement. "So that eight hundred million isn't a motive for you helping me right now? I find that really hard to believe Sark."

"It's a motive to be sure…but it's not mine." He retorted, continuing across the field.

"So what, you're just helping me because you couldn't bear to see me go down for something I didn't do?" She spat with a hint of sarcasm.

"Hardly, you'd have cleared your name once they found out that it was Jawlenski running the op. I'm doing this because I want to…and that gun you so menacingly threatened me with had something to do with it." He added.

"I should have shot you a long time ago." She muttered as she strode past him to continue to walk. He on the other hand did not follow.

"Look, Sydney, if you're in any way questioning my loyalty to you on this mission then I see no need for me to go any further. I'll take the car and be on my merry way." His face turned stern, awaiting her reply.

She gave a deep sigh to the sky, prolonging the length of time she had her back turned on him. Then she slowly shifted herself round to meet his eyes. They gave a gentle glow beneath the low hanging morning mist. "Listen, Sark, if you want to go…just go. You've helped me this far, which I thank you for, but I take it from here."

He savoured her thanks for a second, and then began shaking his head. "I'm asking you what you want; not what I want."

"Okay then. What I want is to be normal again; a free citizen! I want to be able to have friends without worrying if they're being targeted by my latest enemy! I'd be happy if I could just walk in a place without having to care if I'm being watched or not!" She furrowed her brow, biting her frustration back. "I just want to be free from it all." She sighed, offering him a weak smile, all too aware of how much she had opened up to him.

Sark took a step forward to her, but did not make any attempt to touch her; to follow the strong urge to lift her chin high. "Sydney, we can do this. I believe together we will bring The Covenant to an end, but alone is a different matter."

Sydney gave a lazy nod, whilst turning to distance herself from Sark. "Why does everything have to be so complicated?" She mumbled. Sark followed a short distance behind her as they set off silently to the small hedge, which was now in sight.

It didn't take them long to come upon the large dock side, which didn't seem as quiet as it looked. Looking closely at it, Sark was able to see the skeleton figures of the dock workers as they hauled the last of their shipment up the long wooden ramp and into the cargo hold. He listened carefully, studying their mouths as they called to each other; shouting shipment numbers and destinations.

"I'll take a gamble and say that's our ticket to France." He said quietly.

"I'll raise that and say it's leaving pretty soon." Sydney had been studying the workers also and saw that now they were dismantling the wooden ramp from the tall ship. "As in now!" She added, suddenly sprinting out from their lookout position behind a large industrial waste bin. Sark darted out immediately after her. Together, they ran along the dock side, keeping to the shadows to veer round to the far quay where the last of the crew were boarding the ship via the large cargo door below, left of the wooden slatted ramp.

Sydney ducked behind a stack of empty shipping containers to analyse their current position, weighing up the possible courses of action to board the boat without being spotted. Quickly, she slid her bag from her shoulder and handed it to Sark. "Wait here!" She whispered before spinning on her heel to run back the way they had come.

Shortly after she returned with two blue boiler suits, two pairs of steel toe cap rigger boots and two scruffy old hats for them to wear. "I spotted a locker room back there. These were just lying about."

Sark didn't have time to question her obvious plan and instead set about putting the clothes on. When they we ready they casually strolled out from behind the containers and headed down the quay directly towards the boat. Sydney let Sark take lead, feeling that a male worker would look less suspicious to the man collecting their papers.

Sark closed in on the stocky man stood directly in front of the opening on the side of the ship. "Papers please." The man sighed, holding a hand out to him expectantly. Sark made as if to check his pockets, roaming around his boiler suit and was surprised to find a folded piece of paper stuffed in the breast pocket along with bits of chewing gum wrappers and an empty cigarette box.

The man inspected the document and waved him inside the hull of the ship. Sark hesitated slightly, afraid that Sydney might not have the same luck as he had, but sneaking a glance he saw that she too had a wrinkled paper in her boiler suit. It was clear then that she had planted them there and she must have read his mind, as she flashed him a raise of the eyebrow. After the man had made some cocky remark about having a woman on board, Sydney came to join Sark and they headed out into a narrow endless corridor and snaked their way around the ship.

"The papers were a nice touch." He complemented her as soon as they were clear of any other workers.

Sydney only gave a simple smile as they dance down a couple of flights of stairs to take them lower still. They came across an empty worker's lodge and claimed it, stepping inside to drop their bags in the centre of the room.

"I'd say out attire matches the room rather well." Sark said, examining the dump, which surrounded them. Anyone who had lived in it previously wouldn't be someone he'd imagine he'd like to be associated with.

"It beats a cell at the CIA." She retorted, lowering herself onto the metal framed bed in the corner.

"I'm not so sure about that." He quipped. "At least they offer some basic amenities."

Sydney gave a low chuckle, bringing her knees up to her chest, resting her back against the metal hull side and saw that Sark did the same. "This is going to be a long journey." She told him, no emotion present in her voice.

"I hope you brought a book then." He chided and was pleased to see a laugh escape her.

Kendall was sprung out of his trail of thought with an abrupt knock at his office door. "Come in", he ordered the visitor.

"Mr. Kendall, sir, we have a reported sighting of Agent Bristow." The agent from his conversation previously stepped in the room.

"Where?" Kendall demanded, not wanting to know how much work they had obviously put in to bring him such vital information.

"Headed towards the South docks in London, sir. We believe she intends to board one of the ships there." The agent informed him.

Kendall raised from his chair, his hand already in motion to remove the phone receiver from its cradle to dial a number. "Right. I want to track every ship that sets sail from that dock and I want each one intercepted before it reaches its destination. I do not want her getting of one of those ships." He began to dial a number, but was stopped by the agent's voice.

"Sir, we've already contacted the FBI and they've planted two agents on each ship. If she's on one they'll find her."

"Good work." He saw that she stood taller at his obvious compliment, yet that soon faded as she took her cue to leave his office. "Keep me updated." He said as she returned the door to fit snugly inside its frame.

Still with the phone in his hands, he hung up and began dialling a different number.

They had been sat in their room for over two hours now, yet it seemed an eternity to Sydney. She could hear the clanking above them from the workers who pottered about the ship carrying out various orders from the captain. Shifting uncomfortably she sat straight on the bed and saw Sark, staring blankly at the dull metal floor. She was about to strike up some meaningless conversation to hush the annoying thoughts in her head when a high pitched hum escaped from her bag set in the middle of the room.

She reached inside one of the side pockets to retrieve her mobile phone and recognised the caller. Sourly, she raised it to her ear and answered it. "Hello." Her suspicions of the caller were confirmed when she heard the firm voice which answered her back. "Kendall." She sighed.

Sark's eyes shot up at her, yet he did not move. Instead he observed how her whole body stiffened with the call from a member of the CIA. He saw how her whole attention was offered to the caller and how more correct she spoke, even if she wouldn't admit it. He knew the CIA would always be in her, whether she liked it or not, just as doing what he did would always be his downfall. Seeing her now only confirmed all his theories of how her mind worked. Hearing the forcefulness she added to her voice as she spoke reminded him of her mother, Irina. He had always admired that woman's capabilities and it made him extremely curious to know exactly how alike Sydney and her mother were.

He sat still; listening to the angry muffle of the obvious male caller and admired Sydney's ability to hold her own in the heated conversation. Unsure of what to say, when she had ended the call he gently offered, "A friend of yours?" He saw her clear frustration after having yet another string of contact from the CIA, which he knew she was desperately trying to escape, yet he knew she never would.

"Kendall." She clenched her jaw slightly, rerunning the conversation in her head, trying to pick up on the reason why he'd called. There was no reason for him to call her. He'd already made his views clear that she should turn herself in, so why had he called? Her mind raced for every possibility, and then she froze when it hit her. "They know where we are." She muttered, making it sound so obvious to Sark.

"The CIA?" He prodded.

"Or else why would he have called? He already knew that I wasn't going to turn myself in…" She thought out loud.

"Do they know I'm with you?" Sark continued with the many questions he had.

Sydney snapped her head up, realising he had been talking. "I don't know." She answered honestly. "But that's not our main concern. We don't know where they've seen us, or if they think I'm doing this alone. What if they know we're on this boat?"

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to wait around find out." He told her, edging off the bed.

"We have to get off this boat before it reaches France." She replied, returning the tattered cap to her head, rising to a tall stance. "Come on." She ordered, popping the disc from the other side pocket of the bag inside her sweat jacket to sit snugly against her stomach. She then slipped out into the hallway.

"Our bags?" Sark asked, yet didn't hesitate in following her.

"We can't afford to bring them with us." She replied quietly, stalking down to the end of the long passageway.

"I was meaning that they're evidence we were both here." He added, close behind her.

"They already know we're here. Believe me it wont make much difference." She paused before the hallway cut sharply to the right, listening for any clobber of boots. She was certain that she would hear anyone wearing them as even she couldn't bring the ones she was wearing to quietly creep along the floor. It was comforting to know that Sark couldn't either.

They were soon only a few flights away from breaking out onto the deck of the ship, which she knew would be much harder to keep hidden. Nevertheless, they clambered up and mingled in with other workers, who were tagging various cargo containers with destinations. Making their way round to the side of the boat they scanned the dimly lit landscape in hope of confirming their location. However, it was almost impossible to know, for having been cooped up below deck for a good few hours.

"The tides flowing East." Sydney informed Sark, who was stood slightly behind her. "That'll carry us most of the way to the coast." There was no hint of doubt in her voice and Sark knew she wasn't kidding when she then continued to slip her feet from her boots and remove the boiler suit and scruffy cap.

"Are you sure this is our best option?" Sark demanded, choosing to stay put firmly behind her.

"If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in a prison cell then I suggest you come with me." She retorted, lifting herself up on the cold steel railings, which ran around perimeter of the boat.

Hesitantly, Sark drew his feet from within his own boots and stepped forward to do the same. However, he jolted back at the sound of a whirring sound close to his ear. It was then that he realised it had come from the passing of a tranquiliser dart directly into Sydney's left shoulder.

She gave a moan of objection as she recoiled backwards, unaware of how limp she quickly became. Sark stepped forward slightly to keep her upright, yet thought it better to set her down on the ground. He heard the falling footsteps of the shooter, closing in on them fast and knew his options for escape were slim. "Sydney!" He shook her, in some pathetic attempt to revive her, but seeing that she had taken a full dosage of the dart he knew she would be out cold for a good half hour; time which they did not have.

With surprisingly deep regret he quickly slid the zip down on her jacket and removed the disc, popping it in his own pocket. Although she was almost completely unconscious, she mustered the last of her energy to object to his action in taking the disc, trying desperately to grasp his hand.

"Don't worry, Sydney, I'll come back for you." He bid her a goodbye, not wanting to abandon her, but he knew there was no use in them both getting caught, especially, when she would have had the disc on her to confirm that she was the one to have stolen it.

Sydney could do nothing but lie there in her own defeat, helpless. She cried inwardly as she felt Sark take the disc, but she could do nothing. After hearing the muffle of Sark's voice she knew that he was gone, and all she could do was wait for her shooter to come. Then, seconds later she heard the distant echo of a man's voice radioing to, who Sydney assumed would be, his partner and then there was the sweetness of nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

She could smell the faint aroma of disinfectant when she came round and no longer felt the cold surface of metal against her back, but a soft mattress_. A bed, _she thought, _but who's? _Sark couldn't have got her off that boat single handed and even if he had he would have had a hard time moving her unconscious to a bed. Not wanting to aggravate her pounding head she gingerly rose to sit up on the mattress. It was then she saw that the surroundings of the room did not match the comfort she had just woken from.

It was not a room bathed in morning light, for there were no windows. The ground was composed of harsh brown tiles, met by the solid large bare bricks of the three walls, which surrounded her. She knew exactly where she was now, and in that moment she wanted to die.

Slowly, she turned to face the section of the room where there was no wall, only a bullet proof shield of glass separating her from the man who was stood before her now, peering in at her. She'd never felt so much like a caged animal before that moment. "Kendall." She sighed deeply.

"Agent Bristow." Kendall remained at a distant level with her. It was easier to allocate blame to her that way. "I apologise for your surroundings, but we need to talk."

"And you thought putting me in a cell would help with that?" Sydney spat, feeling a sudden surge of energy pass through her as she sat straighter.

"I felt it was an appropriate course of action given the current situation." He stood firm, folding his arms in a burly manner.

"And exactly what situation would that be the part where you accused me of stealing from the CIA or when you had the FBI sedate me?" Sydney couldn't help the sheer frustration, which welled up inside her and felt more comfortable meeting him with a much more defensive pose, stepping forward to the glass to mirror him.

"It would be the part where you refused to cooperate with the CIA and pursued the case, which may I remind you was never yours to begin with, against my requests!" Kendal retorted. He had never been one for striking arguments, but he certainly knew how to handle himself when being cornered.

"Right, because we both know you would have taken my word that I didn't steal that file!" She raged.

"You know all too well how it works, Sydney; we would have taken an in depth statement from you and it wouldn't have taken long for us to verify."

"Long enough for the disc to reach The Covenant and for them to destroy it! You know going after it then was the only option I had to clear my name! Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same in my situation."

"I find that point irrelevant to what's at hand here." He drew in a deep breath, letting his superior façade fall away and spoke to her as a respected agent. "Sydney, just tell me where the disc is now and you'll be free."

"You're blackmailing me?" She scoffed.

"What, you think I'm just going to let you walk out of here without you telling me everything you know about the whereabouts of that disc? May I remind you that I also have a boss to answer to." Sydney made no attempt to reply. "Listen to me, we've got enough evidence to show that you were in pursuit of that disc without authorisation fro the CIA. The question is how long you want to be in that cell."

"I don't believe this." She muttered, and then reacted to what he had just told her. "Evidence, what evidence?"

Kendall leaned back recalling everything he had noted on her so far. "CCTV from the airports, which prove you were running a freelance operation with intent of concealing yourself from the CIA, and we recovered your bag from the ship the FBI, intercepted you on..."

"My bag..?" Surely if they had found hers they had also found Sark's, which meant she was in deeper demand of an explanation.

"Yes. We found various items in there, which has lead us to believe that you were on the tail of a man who goes by the name of Mr. Jawlenski. Now are you going to tell me what the hell you were doing or do we have to do this the hard way?"

Resting her hands on her hips in a frustrated manner she took a deep sigh of reality, craning her head round to look at him once more.

"Now I'm going to ask you once more…" Kendall said sharply. "What were you doing in London?"

Realising it was the best of her options to actually tell him what she was up to she looked at him directly, making the glass shield non existent between them. "Fine. I was following Jawlenski." Was all she said, yet the pang of guilt and frustration hit her like an icy breeze.

"Tell me something I don't know." Kendall prodded sarcastically.

Reacting unconsciously to his brash attitude she stood taller, more defined as she reminded herself of the fact that she was in the cell and the glass came hurtling back before her. "I was following him. That was it." Seeing the expectant gaze of her senior officer she continued. "I was under the impression that he was in possession of the disc and conducted a solo operation in an attempt to retrieve it and return it to the CIA, with which I could then prove it wasn't me who stole it."

Kendall stood back for a moment digesting her story and knew it was solid. He then unfolded his arms, letting his superiority deflate slightly. "We know it wasn't you."

"What?" Sydney couldn't help the shock escape her.

"Shortly after we bought you back here we received valid Intel that a Mr. Julian Sark was in possession of the disc. I'm afraid you were after the wrong man." He added.

It was either a cunning set up for her or she had the best of luck to have the CIA think that Sark took the disc. Thinking about it, she figured he deserved to have the CIA after him, as he had stolen the disc from her, not to mention left her to get caught. She hadn't expected more of him, she was all too aware of how much of a coward he was, when the threat of being caught was in the air. "So what fresh information have you gained that wouldn't allow you to rule me off the list before I went risking my ass?" She spat, secretly desperate to know exactly how they knew.

"I'm sure you'll appreciate the fact that I cannot reveal the names of others involved to you for many reasons, but some of our field agents managed to locate Sark due to an intercepted phone call to a free lance Russian operative, who we know is interested in any information he can get on Rambaldi."

"He set up a trade?" Sydney said it most to make herself hear it. _That son of a btch_, she thought. How could he have worked with her so far only to take the winnings for himself? All she could to was imagine the damage she would do to him when she next saw him, and she believed it would be sooner than he thought. "Does this mean I can go?"

"Unfortunately no, Sark must have been aware of our interception and called the meeting off. So we're left with nothing…except for you that is."

"You're not going to let me go are you?" She furrowed her brow expectant of an honest answer.

"No." He replied bluntly, and she respected him for his truthful response. "At least not until we have something solid on Sark. Do you have any information on him that we could go on?"

The short pause she took before answering seemed like a lifetime. She couldn't believe she was about to lie to protect Sark. She told herself it was to protect herself, but there was some underlying alarm bell, which told her she was in too deep now. "No."

Recoiling from her answer, Kendall nodded his head and with that he left the corridor. Sydney let her guard down and slumped onto the rigid mattress of the pathetic attempt of a bed. When she had joined the CIA she could never have imagined she would be the accused locked up in a cell. Then again a lot had changed since then…a lot. For now though, all she could think about was how badly Sark was going to get it from her.

It had only been a day, yet it felt so much longer to Sydney. No one except the guards had visited her to hand her meals, although she hadn't really felt like eating. She knew the lack of visitors was due to Kendall; he had most likely ordered no clearance for anyone to see her. It would surprise her if he had even let his team know that it was actually her that was in the cell. She was meant to be dead after all. It made no difference to her as she did not have to face them and answer the endless questions they would have for her. For now all she could do was wait.

The night had closed in fast and although there were no windows in her cell to determine the sky, she could hear that the skeleton workers in the guards' office down the hall had been left to their shift, and knew it would be another quiet night. Without a last thought she slowly and hesitantly slipped from reality into a seemingly peaceful slumber.

i There was emptiness in her mind as she fell. It seemed like an eternity as she tumbled gracefully through the sky, letting her fears tumble out from beneath her and for a while she was peaceful. Then the falling became faster and the sky turned a menacing shade of grey as the air spiked at her like icicles.

It was then that she saw that the ground taking form below her and she was approaching fast. In a spray of panic Sydney attempted to turn direction unsuccessfully and she fell faster. The pain of the branches that whipped at her body was all too real as she tumbled down a shaft of dirt. And then everything was still…

Still and motionless. It seemed like she was lay there forever, drifting in and out of consciousness and then she heard a rustle of leaves all around her, which quietened to slow footsteps approaching her from her right, yet she could see no one. Unable to move or make any sound she lay there in the dirt ready and afraid.

The footsteps did not close in on her any further, yet circled her in and out the shadows surrounding her. Then it came; the voice. At first couldn't make out the words it spoke, yet it became clearer as it grew louder, closer. Still she could see nothing. There was a familiar origin in the accent of the voice and she knew she should recognise it, but could not think above the whispers it droned around her.

She tried to speak, but nothing escaped form her throat and her attempts to move were useless. In her peripheral vision she could see a figure crossing from shadow to shadow and was desperate to launch herself to her feet and defend herself, yet she was so helpless in her own skin. Just as she focused her mind enough to move an arm the figure was upon her.

Sydney froze, and she could now have a reason for nothing to come from her mouth for the shock of the person now above her was genuine. Observing the soft blue eyes and the chiselled features of his pale face she could see that it was no other than Sark. "Don't worry, Sydney, I'll come back for you…" The British voice said clearly this time, yet Sark's lips did not move.

Unable to respond all she could so was stare. It happened very quickly and as she mustered the strength to jolt her arm from his grip he let her go and the ground came rushing back to her. With that she woke…/i

She sprung from her bed and shoved herself against the opposite wall, taking irrational gasps of air. Being in the cell itself wasn't to traumatic; it was the presence of Sark, which refused to disappear. There was no doubt in her mind that she would track him down when this was all over. The question at hand though was when would it be over?

Her thoughts were cut short with the sound of the corridor doors churning open to allow Kendal through, who came to face the glass. She quickly composed herself and it must have been convincing as he did not ask her why she wasn't asleep in the middle of the night. A guard accompanied him and set about opening the cell door.

"What's going on?" She demanded.

"There's no time to explain." He told her, making it clear that she should simply oblige.

"Wait, on the way to where?" Sydney quizzed as the guard cleanly handcuffed her and shifted her out into the corridor. With that, she was lead out of the CIA headquarters, into a CIA issued four wheel drive.

It had taken about forty minutes to reach their location and Sydney had been pressing questions on Kendall for the majority of that time. The fact that they were approaching the location didn't stop her from continuing to do so.

"The least you could do is tell me what the hell is going on!" She spat.

"For both yourself and the agency it's best if you know minimal about this operation", was all he told her.

She was about to rage further, but the sound of the engine shuddering to a silence had a similar effect on her. Kendall escaped the car and opened Sydney's door gesturing for her to do the same. She didn't need to though, as the guard helped her out, which was becoming rather annoying to her and she shook him off.

She followed Kendall round to the front of the car where he rested against the bonnet and waited. Although she wasn't sure what or who he was waiting for she joined him, still uncomfortable of the handcuffs. "Are these really necessary?" She asked.

Kendall saw her face and gestured to the guard to remove them. Experiencing the freedom of her wrists again she folded her arms and stood beside the car scanning the area. It was made more difficult by the night sky, yet she managed to clock a total of six agents spread around the perimeter of the wasteland.

She would have resumed to bombarding Kendall with more questions, but focused her attention on the faint glow of headlights approaching from the far side of the land. Slowly the car rolled to a halt a few yards away from them and the driver stepped confidently out onto the dirt, moving round to the front of his car. It was then that she saw it was Sark.

"You're trading me…with Sark!" Sydney whispered at Kendall, however, he did not answer. Instead he headed forward to the driver.

"Do you have the disc?" He demanded an answer from Sark.

The cocky Brit rose to his serious tone and casually slipped his hands into his pockets. "For my own safety I do not have the disc on me."

"Then our deals off." Kendall cut him off abruptly, as he began to walk away.

Making himself heard, Sark continued. "I have hidden the disc in a secure location and hold the instructions on how to find it. Assuming that you still want to continue with this trade I will happily hand over this information." The power he had over the high ranking agent was overwhelming and he revelled in it as he flipped a small piece of paper between his fingers.

"And what part of you thinks that I'm just going to let you walk out of here with her leaving me nothing but a piece of paper?" Kendall knew he was a great negotiator; it had been part of the training process to get him where he was in the CIA, but he knew a stitch up when he saw one.

With the mention of Sydney, or Julia as he was to refer to her as, he took the time to glance past Kendall to observe her. Finding it hard to resist letting a smirk appear on his lips he quickly shifted his sight back to Kendall. "It must be deeply aggravating for the CIA to let one of their best agents loose in the hands of The Covenant, especially when her loyalties don't lie with you…not any more that is."

"No, what bothers me is that I have to trade with sarcastic scum like you in order to claim back what was ours in the first place!" Kendall retorted.

"I admire your honesty." He quipped. "Now do we have a deal?" His tone suddenly dropped to a business manner.

The word "deal" stuck in his mind like a sour memory and hated that such a comment had to come from Sark. However, he knew his duties to the CIA and was all too aware of how vital this "deal" was. "Okay." He resigned, signalling the guard to bring Sydney forward. Sydney, of course made it clear she didn't need assistance and marched to meet him herself, making sure Sark saw her look of sheer hatred.

"As soon as the information is in our hands you and Julia are free to leave. I must point out the obvious fact that if what you hand me is false information we will track you down and you'll both be spending the rest of your years in a cell." Kendall reinforced his authority.

"I can only hope we'd be sharing a cell." Sark quipped, letting the faintest smirk slip.

Sydney recoiled at his comment and wanted so badly to tell him where to go, but reminded herself that Kendall wasn't aware that they had been working together and wanted to keep it that way by not showing any form of feelings towards Sark…no matter how much she wanted to rip his throat out.

Sark was also aware of this and respected her for biting her tongue. He could only wish he'd be able to do the same in such a close situation. Nevertheless he handed Kendall the piece of paper. Kendall unfolded it immediately and read it silently. "This is a combination code."

"Quite right." Sark answered smugly. "This disc is in a secured brief case at a bank you'll find if you follow those coordinates."

"What is this some sort of game?" Kendall scoffed.

"Hardly. It's more like my insurance. You see the problem with our little meeting here is that you could easily take the disc as well as Julia and I." He said it as if it was all that he expected of Kendall and it was true. He knew enough about the CIA to know that they're trained to get results. The only thing was at what cost they paid to get them.

"Well I can't say I entirely trust you either. In fact the shape of it is that I don't trust you at all." It was Kendall's turn to be smug now and he gave a curt nod. It was a signal; a signal to his team to close in on the pair of them. It took only seconds for the guns to be levelled at both Sydney and Sark

The two of them raised their hands in unison, however Sark's did not stay there for long, as in the next instant he abruptly hooked his arm around Sydney's neck, causing her to slump backwards into him and she soon felt the cool metal of a gun pressed firmly against her temple.

"What the-?" She began yet her own voice was quashed with the sharp tone of Sark's addressing Kendall.

"As it happens Director Kendall I'm not in the least fond of you or any patriotic moral you represent." He slipped his hand to lock a firm grip on Sydney's neck, getting the required response form Kendall. 'That's why I didn't hold high hopes on this little deal of ours ending well."

Sydney seethed silently, her mind racing wild, constantly searching for an opportunity to release herself. Then taking another second to consider the outcome of escaping his grip she came to the conclusion that it was safer to stay with him. It was either that or both of them would end up in a cell back at the CIA.

"Then tell me how you want it to end." Kendall said calmly holding his hands halfway in the air in a negotiable manner.

"You have eight agents with snipers on me as we speak." He saw Kendall's lack of recognition to his statement and elaborated for him. He was too clever to let a CIA Director fool him. Rolling his eyes he continued, "Three behind the bunkers, two on top of the sand bank and another three spread out in similar obvious locations."

Sydney couldn't help but find his skills impressive as she herself had only managed to clock six agents. What was more impressive was the way Sark had just unravelled the many layers Kendall kept himself wrapped up in to hide the truth. She found it hard to keep the smile from her face.

"I'm sure a man of your intelligence, Sark, understands the need to take necessary precautions." Kendall sighed slightly, not liking the way Sark had collapsed his closely considered tactical plan within a few minutes.

"I do indeed. That's why I now hold the life of one of your most valued agents." He couldn't help but savour the moment, flashing the tiniest of smirks across his crooked lips. "Now you're going to do as I say, or I assure you… Agent Bristow will suffer." Kendall looked surprised at the mention of her real name, but it didn't wash with Sark. "That's right. I know that she is still working for you. It doesn't take a trained eye to figure that one out."

Angry within himself Kendall gave in to Sark's obvious capabilities to rescue himself in any situation. "Okay, what do you want?"

"Tell your men to stand down. The information I have given you is genuine and I intend to walk out of here…with Sydney as planned. If I so much hear a shot being fired I can guarantee that the shot to follow will be that entering Agent Bristow's skull."

"Do it!" Spat Kendall to the minor field agent behind him, who then radioed to his colleagues. "Anything else?" He rolled off his tongue in a cocky tone.

Sark waited a beat, looking down at Sydney, full appreciating her features. The look on her face however was not so satisfying. "I think I've got all I need", and with that he forcefully took her with him back to where his car sat. "If you'd be so kind", he urged her to open the driver's side door.

Refraining from jutting her head back into his jaw, Sydney popped open the door with ease, still in his firm grip, the barrel of his glock still pressed accurately against her skull.

"Get in." Sark ordered, not allowing any moment for questions. Although his voice indicated he was threatening her, his actions gave a somewhat different message, for he gently released his grip around her throat and slowly offered a hand at the small of her back as she folded herself into the car.

Still biting her tongue, she flung both legs one after the other over the hand brake to pop neatly into the passenger seat. Sark had been quick to place himself in the driver's seat, swinging the car door shut and forcing the engine to life as he secured himself in the car. "I recommend you wear a seatbelt for this."

"I'll take my chances. It's not like you've got much of a challenge to get us out of here." She chose not to look at him, finding the anger inside herself all to present in that moment.

Casually ignoring her he leaned across to catch the strap of her seatbelt, which hung beside her. He then stretched it across her to click the clasp into place, rolling his eyes as he did so. It was so like her to be stubborn in at such a time. Surprised, Sydney found it hard to remain looking elsewhere with his hand almost touch her; she couldn't determine whether she wanted to take it in her own or snap his wrist in two, either way she became surprisingly uncomfortable in a way she hadn't felt for a very long time.

"And I suppose you trust your Director's word still?" He scoffed mildly, slipping the sports car into gear.

"Trust? What the hell does that have to do with-?" She would have finished her sentence had the car not jolted forward and cut sharply to the left causing them to skid dirt in the direction of Kendall and crew, no doubt that was Sark's intention. "Was that really necessary?"

"No", he answered truthfully, "but it was somewhat satisfying."

Sydney forced a deep breath, thinking logically about her situation. "So now that you've successfully traded me like some cheap bargain, along with reveal that you know I'm a double agent, what's your next big plan of action?"

Sark allowed a sarcastic laugh in her direction, not comfortable enough to let his eyes stray from the road ahead. "Firstly, Sydney, you were far from a "cheap bargain"! I could have used that disc for my own benefit instead of using as your get-out-of-jail free card." He paused for a second letting her absorb the facts and he was aware that she did not try to deny it. "Secondly, revealing my knowledge of you as a double agent was the only way to prevent Kendall from becoming suspicious and learning of our previous dealings."

Silence filled the car. It seemed like torture to Sydney. Partly because she wanted to scream everything and anything at him, but mostly it was because she knew he was right. There was one thing she could say about Sark and that was that he was always right. No matter how much she had tried to outthink him, outsmart him in the past he had always been one step ahead of her.

Sark was able to look at her now. "Oh and I would hardly call that successful!" He laughed.

As if something had snapped inside her Sydney turned quickly on him yelling, "You think this is funny! You've just managed to put me in the most danger I could possibly be in right now and you're making jokes!"

Sark controlled the car with such ease as he careened it round the dirt track leading them away from the rendezvous location and quickly drove a couple of miles through the acres of derelict land. Abruptly, he cut the steeing wheel to the left and ran the car up and over a grass verge, leaving it to roll as it did so.

The car continued to roll on it's own accord at high speed until it met another steep verge and crumpled at it's feet, leaving the chassis of the sports car turned towards to stars. Sark hadn't fully expected that to happen, nevertheless he managed to give Sydney a sarcastic look, noticing that she too was dangling upside down, with only her seatbelt to keep her there. "Hate to say I told you so." He quipped.

A little dazed Sydney gathered herself, only now aware that she was upside down and felt the pull of gravity through her body. "What the-?" She muttered. The windscreen of the car had shattered from the impact, leaving a spray of tiny jewels below her. With some surprising effort she released her seatbelt, causing her to drop directly onto the glass and she began to scramble out of the also shattered window frame of the door.

Composing herself as she stood tall out in the open, which seemed to be an endless stretch of waste land, and drew in a deep breathe. She felt the tiny pin pricks all over her exposed skin where the glass had peppered cuts all over her and she was thankful that no worse damage had been sustained. Just then she heard Sark escaping the car and rushed round to his side, dragging him out before she had fully approached him. "Are you trying to get us killed you son of a bitch?"

He too had a sporadic display of tiny cuts across his face and hands, which he used to unsuccessfully catch himself as he tumbled out onto the dirt. He began to push himself up, but she was upon him again, driving him to the ground. This time he was prepared and used her momentum to drive her to the ground also, allowing him to gain the upper hand as he rushed to his feet.

"No." He answered simply, collecting himself as he watched her scramble to her feet. "But I'm beginning to think you want me dead."

"Personally I'd rather see you in pain!" She retorted, hauling a fist his way to crack hard against his jaw.

He recoiled back, feeling the full impact of her blow, somewhat shocked at her strength. "Well I must congratulate you on your success." He shot back, spitting blood out onto the ground. His recovery timing was just quick enough so that he saw her fist flailing towards him again and moved his arm up to stop it with his palm. "Unfortunately I don't like to be beaten so…" Pausing mid-sentence to swing her arm down and around her back to grip her in an arm lock "…we can either fight until I win or you can listen to what I have to say."

"I'm really not seeing the better option here." She quipped, managing to jolt her head backwards, feeling the crack of his nose against her skull. Still, she could not release herself. His grip remained firm.

"There's a perfectly good reason for this Sydney." Sark's voice never hinted at anything but calmness as it was soft and Sydney found it almost reassuring, but she wasn't about to fall for that one.

"You're trying to kill us?" She guessed sarcastically, still struggling for freedom.

"If you'll just listen…" He reasoned with her. "You have to trust me."

Grimacing silently at those words she remained silent. Then hesitantly she let her limbs relax, offering a deep sigh. Sark, happy with her calmed state, slowly slackened his grip. It wasn't until he felt a tyre of the car pressed hard into his chest that he saw that as a mistake. This time is was Sydney restraining him.

"You see where trust gets you, Sark?" Sydney spat through gritted teeth, wanting so badly just to knock him out. Instead she chose to give a quick short jab to the back of his head 'causing his nose to crack once more against sheer solidness, increasing the damage sustained to it.

Sark silently wailed in agony, yet he did not try to break free; he simply waited for his chance to speak. "Are you suggesting that you live a life without trust, Sydney?"

"It helps when it comes to people like you." She reasoned sarcastically, pushing his arm further up where she had it restrained.

"People like me." Sark echoed. "You mean people who play an active role in aiding you to bring down an evil organisation such as The Covenant?" He chimed.

"You're actually making yourself sound righteous there Sark." She inched his arm further still, satisfied with his growing discomfort.

"Regardless of my morals..." He paused, struggling to talk through the stabbing pain surging through his arm. "I still chose to help you…" another pause. This time it was to let his words sink in to her and her silence was enough for him to know that she couldn't argue that. "More to the point…you let me." He added, unable to resist a slight chuckle. "Now correct me if I'm wrong but that constitutes as trust."

Refusing to let that thought invade her mind, Sydney let go of his arm only to grip both of his shoulders, ready to fling him once more to the ground. However, she paused mid-action when she heard a low grumble of an engine in the distance. It grew louder, closing in on them…fast.

Sark on the other hand was not in the least surprised and simply looked down at his watch. "Right on time."

Reminded of what she was about to do, she slammed Sark heavily into the dirt, this time allowing him up. "Who is it?" She demanded.

"A friend." He told her matter of fact.

"You actually have friends?" She couldn't help but mock the idea.

"He's more like an acquaintance."

The engine grew louder still and Sydney could now see the blur of headlights rolling over the mounds of dirt. She guessed it was some for of 4x4 to be travelling at that speed. "He!" She was frantic with which option she could take; either to run or to stay and find out who the driver was. No matter what she chose she wasn't going ot be happy, so she decided she would opt for the least strenuous.

"A Mr. Zackary Sharpe actually. I thought we could use some help...as much as you'd like to deny it."

"Are you crazy! Letting someone else in on this could compromise the whole thing!"

"And attempting it on our own is a sure path to getting one of us…if not both of us killed." Sark retorted.

Take a deep breathe was all Sydney could do as the car was now upon them, coming to a dramatic grind on the dirt. "Hey!" A surprisingly enthusiastic voice emerged from the car. "Am I interrupting something?"

It was then that Sydney could see the man sat ready behind the wheel. He was seemingly short, or maybe it was the size of the car, that she now saw to be a Jeep, which dwarfed him. She must have been lingering on her stare as he then wafted a hand in the air saying, "Hi, you must be Sydney. I'm Zack."

"So I've just been told…" She murmured in the direction of Sark.

Sark, appreciating the absence of her violence, took the time to prod at his bloody nose to asses the damage. For what he could tell it wasn't broken, but it sure as hell hurt, so bad that the throbbing caused a headache to surface.

"Man, what happened to you?" Zack asked in astonishment. Sydney concluded from the grimace Zack displayed on his face that he was not field trained. iGreat/i she thought sarcastically.

"We were just catching up." Sark left his nose alone now and stepped closer to the car, walking around to look in the trunk of the Jeep. "Did you bring everything we discussed?"

"Yeah yeah, I got it all man. All what you asked me to." Zack clambered out of the driver's seat to meet them on the dirt now. He walked with a noticeable relaxed manner, and it seemed very contagious as Sydney appeared to warm to him as he approached her.

"So I guess I'm the last to know about this arrangement." She mocked herself. "Like always…" She added quietly.

Zack fumbled in his step, turning in surprise to Sark. "You didn't tell her?"

Sark was tolerable of a lot of things in life, but he could not stand for anyone questioning his methods and he suddenly remembered why he liked to work alone. "It would only have lead to more complications." He continued to inspect the items in the trunk.

"That's harsh man." Zack chuckled.

"I employed you to do a job…not pass judgement." Sark quipped, now a fair degree frustrated.

"Hey that's fine by me." Zack raised his hands from out of his pockets in defence as he spoke.

The laid back tone was cut sharp as Sydney marched over to Sark, demanding him to look at her. "Complications?" She prodded. "You mean if I had a clue what the hell was going on it would have been more complicated?"

Sark almost laughed, rolling his head round to her. "Don't pretend that if I'd have told you about me hiring Zack you'd have happily obliged, Sydney. We both know that if I had, we wouldn't be here right now."

"If I'd have done a lot of thing I wouldn't be here right now…" She muttered.

"Sydney…" Sark lowered his voice so only Sydney could hear. "I know you don't trust me. At least not enough to place your life in my hands, but in the game we play…you have to trust someone."

Sydney would have spoken if only she had something to say, but she found herself deep in a wild turmoil of thoughts, recalling the past few days where the only person she had allowed herself to work alongside was Sark; the least likely person in the world that she thought she would ever become so involved with. They shared a secret, a secret that only they knew…for now, not to mention Zack or course. She wondered just how much Zack did know… "So it's all about trust right? Do you trust him?" She gestured over to where Zack stood, unsure of what to do as they talked.

"To a certain extent, yes." He did not hesitate with his answer, but what she asked next, he was completely unprepared for.

"Do you trust me?" Her voice was serious, no falter in her gaze.

How could he possibly answer that with a simple 'yes' or 'no'. Considering the question deeply, he was baffled over what he actually felt. Did he trust her? She had tried to kill him on so many occasions, yet he was still alive. She worked for the very organisation that makes it their objectives to hunt him down, yet here she was…with him. It was the one time in his life where he did not see things as black and white anymore and it shook him inside. Refusing to give her a direct answer he simply replied, "Isn't that what it's all about…trust?"

Taken aback at how he could not give her a straight answer she drew back slightly. "You tell me…"

Perfectly on cue Zack met them round the back of the vehicle, a little unsure around the two obviously trained spies. He had no idea of the world they had to live in. All he was educated in was technology; as long as it was programmed, he could deal with it, but seeing the state of Sark's nose made his gut wrench. More to the point he was now very wary of Sydney.

"It's okay." Sydney assured him, noticing the flicking glances between Sark's nose and her. "He deserved it." She flashed him a wide grin.

"Mind letting me in on what it was exactly that you did...so I can remember to NOT do that?" He chuckled, though it was clear that there was some seriousness to his tone.

"He pissed me off." Sydney cut in, not allowing for any answer from Sark.

"Man, and you look so-", he stopped himself as he saw her pleasantness fall away with what he was about to say. "I'd benefit from not finishing that sentence wouldn't I?"

"You really would." Sydney chimed as she brushed passed both him and Sark to walk round to the passenger side of the Jeep.

"Okay…but just for the record I was gonna say cute." Zack called after her before he too walked off to return to the driver's seat and clambered in.

Sydney managed to crack a laugh as she took it upon herself to claim the front passenger seat; she hated riding in the back of cars. Plus, she really wanted to create some distance between herself and Sark right now. Things had strangely gotten a little too complicated for her liking…and she wasn't sure how it had happened, which was the worrying aspect of it all.

Sark stood where he was for a moment, wanting so much to grind his teeth at Zack's comment on Sydney. Then he became more curious as to why he felt that way. Surely he couldn't be jealous. Not dwelling too much on the idea he picked out a bottle of antiseptic and a cloth rag from one of the first aid supplies he had asked Zack to bring. He then hopped into the Jeep himself, aware that Sydney had chosen to sit up front…and it was clear that Zack was too. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have hired him after all.

Zack wasted no time in starting the engine and they quickly fled the scene, leaving the smashed car behind, along with Sydney's principles, but what were they to her these days. "Where are we headed?" She asked.

Sark stepped in, speaking from behind her. "A safe house just outside of Los Angeles." He resumed to drenching the cloth rag in the antiseptic to at least wash away some of the blood from his face, as he did he felt the tiny stings from where the tiny drops of glass had cut his skin. He would have offered Sydney the same treatment but thought better of what reply he would be asked for.

"Isn't that a bit risky being right next door to the CIA? Surely they'll find us. Kendall will want me found." She returned just as fast with the question.

"Being right under their noses makes us less predictable doesn't it? Like that's the last place people ever think to look right?" Zack added.

"Something to that effect." Sark grimaced as he applied the drenched cloth to a raw part of his nose. "You cannot be found if you don't want to be."

"And you work for the CIA…seriously!" Zack continued, addressing Sydney.

"It's tricky right now, but to save you the complicated answer…yes I do." She adopted a position to stare out of the window into the dull of the night.

"…But you also work for The Covenant…?" Zack couldn't help but see how far he got with the questions.

Sydney could relate to his eagerness to know everything, but she knew all to well that the less he knew the safer he was. "Yeah", was all she told him.

"So you're like the under dog; playing the bad guy but really you're the good guy all along. That's a classic!" Zack beamed as he steered the car and then he frowned turning to her once more. "Assuming that you are the good guy…" He grew slightly worried at her lack of reply, but seeing her face was all the answer he needed for she offered a small withering smile. "Sorry. I know I'm asking a lot of questions here, but it's just that…working with…for you guys is just like so awesome. I mean you're both spies! That's just too cool!"

"You might wanna not go shouting that around." Sydney chuckled slightly as she observed his awe around them. It saddened her inside that if he knew what being a spy was ireally/i about he wouldn't be so keen.

"Oh yeah, sure…I can keep my mouth shut." There was a brief pause before he spoke next. This time he addressed Sark. "So are you work for the CIA too?"

Before Sark could answer Sydney cut in saying, "So what about you Zack…what is it that you do?" The last thing she wanted was for Zack to freak out with the knowledge that Sark was an assassin by profession…more to the point that he chose to be that way.

Aware of the subject change, Zack chose not to follow it up. "I'm a freelance systems technician…but not you're usual straight lace kind. I know I shouldn't be telling this to a CIA agent but I mostly do off the record jobs like hacking into major alarm systems in buildings like big business corporations, casino's, banks…you name it I can probably get you into it."

"That was one of my guesses." Sydney nodded.

"And your other guess..?" Zack ventured.

"Well I figured you might have been in the engineering business…but by the way you handle this thing…" She chided.

"That's harsh man!" He laughed.

Sark also couldn't help a smirk creep across his lips. From his encounters with Sydney he had found that she had never been one to hide her opinions…and that wasn't about to change.

"What you wanna take over?" Zack gestured the wheel to her.

"Thanks, but I don't have a clue way we're going." It was clear that her comment was directed at Sark.

"It wouldn't be as fun if you knew would it?" Retorted

"For you maybe…" She grunted.

"Maybe…" Sark smiled, yet the darkness was his only witness.


End file.
